


If I Just Lay Here (would you lie with me and just forget the world?)

by Madd4the24



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Drama, Forbidden Love, M/M, MAMAverse, Superpowers, Unrequited Love, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 171,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madd4the24/pseuds/Madd4the24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world ravaged by over a decade of war, M and K seek to exterminate each other in a game of deadly politics fueled by greed and territory disputes. With brother pitted against brother, two unlikely people find themselves entangled in the forbidden act of love, caught between that love and duty to their respective people.  And in the darkness something sinister lurks, preying on the source of all life, intent on destroying everything. And very few will ever see it coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kai

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone who's intending to read this story goes any further, and with my hope that someone is actually looking at the foreword, I want to let casual readers know that this may not be the story for them. This story took around three months to write, is filled with my blood, sweat and tears, and is much longer than an average novel. While chapters will go up at a steady pace as not to overwhelm anyone, the content is dense, and I wrote this will a focus on characters over plot. That's not to say that this doesn't have a plot, but the characters are the central focus. Who they are, how they react to each other, and so on and so forth. Romance is just as important as friendship, if not more. If you aren't prepared to invest a lot into these characters, you may want to find something shorter and less complex to read.
> 
>  
> 
> Now that all that is out of the way, a little backstory. I ended up seeing, while I was brand new to kpop in January and pretty much convinced that Shinee was the only group that was worth my time, Exo's MAMA video on a whim. I think I clicked on it on accident. But the moment I saw it, I knew I had to write something about it. I know there are other MAMA centric stories out there, but the ones I've come across have read as more focused on the plot, and as a character development kind of author, they never hit the sweet spot for me. So since I couldn't find what I wanted, I decided to write it myself. Problem solved.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, I truly was consumed by this story for several months while writing it, so if I haven't scared everyone off, please read it and enjoy!

At first there was only silence, and then, “You shouldn’t have come.”

It was probably crazy or stupid to admit it, even just to himself, but of all the things Kai wondered about, it intrigued him the most how Luhan always knew when he was there. It was a proven fact that Kai made no noise when he appeared, which admittedly was different from the faint popping sound when he disappeared. Kai was still working out the logic in that, but the truth of it held. There was no way Luhan should have been ultra perceptive enough to know when he was there, taking into account the pitch blackness of the room and Luhan’s lack of telepathic abilities.

Unless something else had manifested.

It was a rare thing to have more than one ability, and even rarer for a second to manifest itself out of the early pubescent years, but Kai had since stop believing anything was impossible.

“I always come.”

His voice was too high, and Luhan hushed him right away. It probably should have been Kai’s first clue.

“I know,” Luhan returned. “There’s no dissuading you, is there?”

“Nope,” Kai said cheerily enough, taking a deliberate step forward. His eyes shut automatically in the blackness and he recalled the layout of Luhan’s personal suite. Luhan was meticulous about keeping his belongings exactly where he wanted them, which almost guaranteed Kai a foolproof way to navigate the floor without incident. Briefly, but on more than one occasion, Kai had wondered if Luhan did it for him. For his late night visits. Then again, it was likely just Luhan’s incessant need to keep things clean and tidy.

Gently, and with concern, Luhan said, “You’re going to get caught one of these days.”

He was courting death. Kai was under no false assumptions what would happen if he was discovered in Luhan’s bedroom. He was an enemy of the state, classified as a wanted terrorist, and without a doubt, the enemy. Any of M’s guards, including the ones stationed right outside the door, would shoot in sight. And M’s prince would probably rip Kai apart personally. 

Kai’s memory served to tell him that after only a few more moments he was already half across the room and standing in front of Luhan’s giant bed. Kai recalled the bright shine to the almost cherry colored wood the bed was framed by, the support poles reaching up to the ceiling and decorated with vine inspired carvings . 

Luhan always looked so tiny in the bed. 

And it was a far cry from the cot that Kai crashed on back at headquarters, having to cram in next to D.O. with not enough room for the both of them to sleep comfortably. His dreams were often filled with instances of him crawling up on Luhan’s bed, spooning behind him and making the bed seem less intimidating. 

“I’d like to think,” Kai told him, his skin still vibrating from the teleporting, “that you would warn me immediately if something was going to go wrong.”

Six months ago Kai wouldn’t have been so sure, but then six months ago Luhan had just been testing the waters out, getting a feel for Kai. They’d barely had any sort of a relationship then. Of course that wasn’t to say that Kai hadn’t already been observing Luhan for over a year, and by then he was utterly, pathetically and dangerously in love with him. Six months ago Kai had been nothing but a dream to Luhan. Or a chance to be a little reckless in a world filled with too much sadness.

Kai paused, “You would, right?” He was only joking. He could feel how much Luhan loved him in the way their fingers brushed, how they kissed, and the way Luhan tried to make him promise never to come back at the end of every visitation. 

Luhan sighed heavily. “I would that I could.”

Kai felt his stomach plummet a little. “Are you feeling okay?” It would take seconds for him to call for the lights, the automated system always at the ready. His biggest fear of the moment wasn’t being caught, but instead getting a good, hard look at a sickly Luhan. It tore away pieces of his heart every time he had to see Luhan beaten down, through no fault of his own.

“Debatable,” Luhan said, but there was a little humor to his voice. “Kai, what I meant was that … my connection with Mama …” He trailed off as Kai took another few steps forward.

“What’s wrong?” Kai’s shins knocked into the frame of the bed. It stung, but he kept quiet. “Tell me.”

Without his eyesight Kai was more aware of his other senses. He could smell the potpourri in the air, and the remnants of burning herbs. He could hear the way Luhan shifted underneath his blankets, and the clicking of the old, antique clock that he kept on a nearby table. 

“My connection to Mama is more intense every day, Kai. Our connection is fluctuating wildly; hot and cold, and strong and weak. Sometimes she’s so weak, and those times her voice fades from my mind. I can’t see her in my dreams anymore, and her influence dwindles in a staggering way. But when we’re at our peak, I feel like there’s fire running through my veins, and I’m so strong I think I can do anything. That’s what I mean, Kai. My abilities are linked to her, and there is nothing steady about that link at the moment.”

Feeling his way around the bed, Kai knelt down on the plush carpet and reached across the bed for Luhan’s body. He could just barely reach him, but he only let his fingers brush the warm form swallowed up by sheets.

“Your visions?”

“Sporadic, at best,” Luhan answered. “They come and go, some are strong but most are weak, and they can’t be relied on. As Mama comes closer to death, so do I.”

Immediately Kai called for lights.

It took a second for Kai to orient himself with the brightness, and it was his worst fear confirmed, from the dark circles under Luhan’s eyes, to the smear of blood under his nose, and the pallid tone to his skin. He looked worse than normal. He looked beyond fragile. Luhan was too thin, too worn down, and Kai hesitated to even touch him again.

“I--”

Then Kai saw the second person in the room. And the third. And he almost teleported away out of pure instinct alone. Luhan was not alone on his bed, and the chair on the other side was not vacant.

“Shh,” Luhan said, a smile pulling at his white lips, “they’re asleep.”

Kai’s eyes traced the death grip the boy on the bed seemed to have with Luhan’s hand. Lay. Kai recalled his name after a second more. This was Lay, M’s main healer. 

Healers were twice as rare as double abilities, and coveted beyond belief. Kai himself could only recall the names of a couple of healers that he knew in K, all of them spread too thin and kept on the constant move to preserve their safety. As far as Kai knew, M had just as few healers as K did, and within the ranking system, Lay was known as a top tier. There was a reason he was the prince’s personal healer, not that the pompous heir ever saw real battle.

“You had a fit,” Kai accused, not sure why he felt betrayed. 

“I had a vision,” Luhan corrected. “It brought on the fit.”

“Why?” Kai demanded. “Until recently you had visions all the time. They never caused fits. They never required a healer’s intervention.”

The other boy in the room was even easier for Kai to recognize. A year and a half ago when Suho had identified Kai’s ability and felt assured that he was stable enough to undergo a lengthy mission, his first and only assignment had been to shadow the royal family. For sixteen months Kai had been privy to as much of the prince’s behavior as possible, following him and his entourage from the royal estate in the country, to the capital, and even along the vacations they took as their men were fighting and dying in constant skirmishes with K’s soldiers. 

During this time, as the prince should have been Kai’s focus, he’d fallen in love with Luhan. And as his focus shifted from the prince himself, to the overly protected older cousin to the prince, so had the knowledge of Luhan’s inner circle. Xiumin was Luhan’s most trusted friend, one of his oldest, and it was probably a miracle thus far that Luhan hadn’t told him about their late night meetings. It was probably the only secret Luhan had ever kept from Xiumin.

If Xiumin was present now, the fit must have been worse than Kai had imagined. Xiumin was part of Luhan’s personal guard, but he often spent lengthy periods of time with the prince, acting as an additional bodyguard with exceptional control over his abilities. Xiumin was the kind of dedicated solider that even Kai had to respect, but if he had any real weakness, it was Luhan.

Luhan rolled away from Lay a little, but he didn’t release his grip on the fingers that clutched at his. “Mama is very weak right now, Kai. She is dying. I don’t say this lightly. And our connection is strained. When I normally experience visions … she used to protect me from the harm they did to me. That protection isn’t there anymore.”

Kai felt himself tremble a little. There had been a time in his life when he had only known Luhan by his title, and thought of him as an entitled, egotistical royal of M, just like the rest of them. Now he knew Luhan for his kindness and compassion, and for his belief in equality between M and K. The belief that few of his fellow family members shared. 

He couldn’t lose Luhan. He wouldn’t.

“This is why I don’t want you coming anymore,” Luhan continued. “It’s too dangerous. I can’t protect you if I can’t see the future. I can’t see the danger coming, I only know it’s there.”

“Dampeners,” Kai suggested immediately, brushing off Luhan’s concern for his own safety. He’d always known the risks spying entailed, and more than that he knew the risk of being found in a compromising position with Luhan. “What about using dampeners?”

Luhan shook his head, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t risk it.”

“Risk what?” Kai demanded. “Dampeners will reduce the risk of you having a vision, if not prevent them altogether. Why doesn’t your pathetic excuse for a cousin have them installed already?”

Dampeners were Kai’s worst nightmare. He feared the game changing advanced devices more than anything else. Everyone who knew what dampeners could do, did. Maybe his almost obsessive fear told him immediately that he was entirely too dependent on his abilities. But there was nothing more frightening, next to losing Luhan, than the idea of being helpless. Dampeners would rob him of his ability to escape a potentially dangerous situation.

They’d also prevent him from being able to appear in Luhan’s room for a late night rendezvous, but it was a small price to pay for preserving Luhan’s health. They’d find other ways to meet, if necessary.

“He did, and don’t call my cousin pathetic,” Luhan chided, but it was without bite as he was more than aware of how Kai felt about the heir to M’s throne. “Twice, actually. I made him remove them.”

“Why?” Kai demanded, his voice spiking so radically that Xiumin shifted recklessly in the chair he was sleeping in.

Luhan gave him a dark look. “Quiet.”

Kai nodded, then pressed, “Dampeners would make things harder on us, but they’d make things easier for you.”

“My visions are erratic,” Luhan said, “but necessary. They give me invaluable information. I need them.”

Maybe he needed them to be valuable to the prince, or to remain M’s darling. Or maybe he needed them to preserve his own imagine of usefulness. 

Next to the prince, Luhan was probably the most dangerous person to K. His visions could be anything from the next day’s breakfast menu to what K’s tactical plans might be for the next six months. They were varied in content and utterly unpredictable, but the greatest security risk K could pinpoint. 

More than once the topic of assassination had come up. 

Kai would kill anyone who even thought about it. There was no doubt in his loyalty to K. He still reported frequently to Suho the activities of M, and relayed anything that might be beneficial. He swore his allegiance time and time again and never wavered in his belief that M had to be stopped, but Luhan was not the enemy. Nothing would happen to Luhan under his watch.

“If the prince thinks that your usefulness is worth the cost of your life, then he and I need to--”

“Kai.”

Luhan’s fingers reached out with his free hand and when they linked Kai could immediately feel the healing strength of Lay through Luhan as a conduit. Lay’s strength was astonishing, and frankly a little scary. The boy was obviously in a deep sleep, his breathing slow and even, but he continued to exert himself and his ability subconsciously. 

“I don’t need them to help my king kill your comrades. That’s not why I value them.”

Desperately, Kai asked, “Then why? They are killing you, Luhan. I can see that with my own eyes. Why keep something that is draining your life away?”

Luhan looked frustrated. There was a pull around his mouth and faint crinkles at his eyes. “Something is happening to Mama. I’m trying to find out what, and see if I can help her.”

Mama.

Up until recently, within the last generation, Mama had been a myth. She’d been a story told to Exo children, before the split, to keep them honest and good. She was supposed to be the spirit of Exo, the soul, but she wasn’t supposed to be real. It hadn’t been until Luhan and a few others had been born with a spiritual connection that her existence had been confirmed. 

In a lot of ways, the proof of Mama’s existence had instigated the split of Exo into M and K. 

And apparently something had been weakening her for years. Maybe it was the split. Luhan had said on several occasions that he thought Mama was feeling the tension between her children, but it was only a feeling in his gut. Still, Kai hadn’t thought the situation had deteriorated so drastically. He didn’t know things were so bad. 

“Can Mama die?” Kai asked, a little afraid of the answer. 

Something heavy crackled through the air and Kai froze.

“Chen,” Luhan breathed out, his hand leaving Kai’s without hesitation. He pointed across the room, and urged, “Hurry!”

A half second later a knock sounded at Luhan’s door, and Chen’s concerned face was poking in. 

“Hey,” Chen offered, “you’re up.”

“I got up for a drink of water,” Luhan explained. Kai could just see Luhan from the nearby armoire he’d barely had time to slip in. Luhan’s slippers were by the bed and it was a believable enough story with the half empty glass of water nearby. Luhan’s foresight was unbelievable at times.

“You should have called me,” Chen said, stepping fully into the room. He didn’t close the door behind him and that was a relief. He clearly wasn’t planning on staying long. “I would have gotten it for you. I’m just pacing out there.” He gestured back to the antechamber attached to Luhan’s room. “I’m actually surprised you’re up.”

Luhan made a show of yawning, then gestured to the two boys asleep in the room. “I won’t be in a second. And you should go to bed.”

Chen shook his head right away. “No way. The prince would kill me if I went and anything happened to you.” Chen’s emotions amplified his ability and Kai could feel his hair start to stand up from the electricity laced into the air around them. 

“I have Xiuminie,” Luhan said fondly. “And Lay. And the defense system. Not to mention the guards out in the hallway, the ones stationed underneath my balcony, and the ones watching all around for the slightest sign of trouble. I mean this in the kindest way possible, Chen, but you aren’t needed. And I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if I know you’re pacing a groove into the floor.”

“I shouldn’t,” Chen still protested, but it was clear he was weakening. 

“Go,” Luhan said, and Kai could feel his stomach twist up as power rippled through the room. He shifted the tiniest bit in the armoire and it was barely fast enough to see Chen rock back a step. 

“Okay,” Chen laughed out a little, “I get the point. No need to get pushy.”

Kai wanted to see more. In the year and a half he’d been watching Luhan, he’d barely seen him use his telekinesis. He’d seen the terrifying visions that had Luhan dropping like a stone in the ocean, but those were uncontrollable, often violent and intrusive. His telekinesis, his first ability, was something he had perfect control over, but barely exerted. However, when he did … the power behind it was palpable. 

If K had any idea how strong Luhan really was, Kai knew he’d already be a traitor to his people. Luhan’s saving grace probably was how little he used his telekinesis, and how weak he allowed others to perceive him to be. It likely saved his life on more than one occasion.

It just saddened Kai’s heart to see Luhan repress his abilities so much. Those of them that were gifted, had been given their abilities from Mama herself. They were abilities meant to be used for the sake of betterment, but it seemed to Kai they only used them to wage war on each other.

Voice a little scratchy, Luhan asked, “Where’s Tao? Is he with Kris?”

At the door Chen paused. “Of course he is. Especially with Xiumin here, watching over you.” A sour look pressed onto Chen’s face. “Not that he’s doing a spectacular job of it.”

“Give him a break,” Luhan defended, “he’s exhausted. It isn’t easy following me around, trying to keep me out of trouble, and then doubling back to help Tao with Kris. You’d be surprised how little sleep he’s able to operate on, and still be relied upon.”

Chen scanned the room one final time and Kai held his breath. Then he relayed, “Okay, your highness. I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll go now.”

“Just Luhan, please.”

Chen scoffed, closing the door behind him. “Not on your life. Not with the upcoming wedding.”

Kai toppled out of the armoire less than gracefully a second later, his pulse racing under his skin. Chen was another of the prince’s personal guard, highly skilled with his ability to generate and manipulate lightening, and staunchly discriminatory towards anyone from K. Chen would have torn the room apart to get to him, Kai knew, and alerted half the palace in the process.

“See,” Luhan argued as Kai resumed his spot next to the bed. “This is what I’m talking about.”

“Could have been worse,” Kai joked. “It could have been Tao.”

“Unlikely,” Luhan countered. 

Tao was Kai’s worst nightmare. The captain of the guard was the one person Kai wasn’t sure he could survive an encounter with. Not only was he magnificent with a blade, deadly in physical combat, he was also able to manipulate time. What good was being able to teleport if Tao could freeze time and kill him before the thought even entered his mind? Kai’s saving grace was that despite his value as a soldier in the field, Tao was glued to the prince’s side nearly night and day to defend him against any assassination attempts.

It lurked in the back of mind at Kai’s mind at times that the prince was an only child, and the ten year long war between K and M had claimed a significant amount of royal lives. Luhan, with his direct link to the throne was second after the prince. If anything happened to the prince, Luhan would be king at the moment of ascension.

Day in and day out the king did his part to try and bring K back under M’s subjugation, and when the prince had that title, he would as well. Kai didn’t think that would be the case with Luhan. Luhan was clearly more suited for a goal of peace.

But Kai didn’t think Luhan could survive the pressure of the throne. 

Neither was there any guarantee that Suho and Luhan could bring their fractured countries back together if that scenario played out.

Double checking that both Xiumin and Lay were both still genuinely asleep, Kai noted, “I’m surprised his supreme highness himself isn’t in here, coddling you.”

“Kai,” Luhan said tiredly, sinking further into his pillows. “Stop being jealous.”

Kai snapped, “I’m not jealous.”

He had every right to be jealous. 

Luhan surprised him then, saying, “You are the one I love.”

Catching Luhan’s hand in both of his, Kai bowed his head. “Do you have to marry him?”

“Yes and no.” Luhan’s voice was strained all the sudden. They rarely talked about the inevitable event that was quickly approaching. “It’s been arranged since he and I were born. It’s expected of us, and as much as you hate what M had done to K, I still love my people. They are my people, Kai. I want them to have some happiness. The wedding will take a lot of pressure off the war on this front.”

“He’s your cousin, and he can’t be the only option.”

The idea of the prince’s hands on Luhan’s thin form made Kai’s skin crawl. The prince, who was responsible for heartlessly and indiscriminately ordering the deaths of as many K citizens as possible a day, did not deserve someone like Luhan. Especially if their romance was fictitious and cooked up for the sake of war propaganda. No matter how fake the marriage was, they’d still be legally tied together by the end of the year, they would still have to consummate the marriage, and after that there’d likely be no chance to meet with Luhan in private. Luhan would be even more heavily guarded. Not to mention off limits.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Luhan said, finally letting go of Lay’s hand. He held his breath visibly for a moment, freezing perfectly still as he waited for something to happen. But then he was certain he was fine, and Kai was helping him from the bed. “I care for my cousin. I will marry him.”

There was very little blood actually tying Prince Kris and Luhan together. Kai had read the dossier himself before taking the assignment, but it was enough of a tie to validate Luhan in the succession line to the crown, and more than enough to make him an eligible choice to sit the throne next to the prince. There were also no other siblings or first cousins to consider, only much older aunts and uncles.

Kai’s hands fit perfectly at Luhan’s waist and he was able to fully breath in the scent that was all Luhan. The best part of Luhan, besides his heart, was the way he smelled. There was always a cedar smell to his skin, reeking of masculinity and unbridled strength. Luhan’s scent always gave him away, no matter how he looked. If Tao was the first person Kai didn’t want to go up against, Luhan was the very next.

“I don’t like how unwell you look,” Kai said, bowing his forehead against Luhan’s. “Holding onto your connection to Mama isn’t worth your life. I know you want to save her, fix her, whatever, but it’s killing you. Even I can see that.”

Luhan’s boney fingers rested up on Kai’s shoulders and he held on with surprising strength. “You asked earlier what happens if Mama dies. That’s what I’m scared of, Kai. I’m terrified.”

Kai argued gently, “But she isn’t Exo, Luhan. She might be Exo’s soul, but she isn’t Exo itself.”

“Can the body survive without the soul?” 

Kai thought that was debatable, taking the prince into consideration. 

Luhan shifted forward even further, his arms sliding up around Kai’s neck to pull him into a tight embrace. In Kai’s ear, he whispered, “Our wars have torn our people apart, but this is worse than that. Whatever is happening to Mama is tearing our planet apart.”

Things had been worse, recently. It was often hard to tell what was naturally occurring, ecologically speaking, as soldiers with abilities often masked the churn of nature. But there’d been an increase in earthquakes in M lately, and K had been hit by severe wind storms that weren’t the byproduct of a worked up special. The summer had been cold, the winter had been hot, and the air felt muggy most days. There’d been reports of tainted water from regularly safe sources, and of large groups of animals dying off without warning. It was all disconcerting, but none of it had been at the forefront of Kai’s mind.

How could he think about a freak tsunami off K’s southern coast when Luhan was looking worse and worse, and M advanced further and further into K’s already precariously small territory. 

“Promise me,” Kai all be begged, willing to fall to his knees, “that if this gets any worse you will reconsider dampeners. They could save your life.”

Luhan’s fingers stroked the skin at the back of Kai’s neck. “I don’t think any of us have very long, to be honest.”

“Then run away with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. This time he meant it.

“That’s unrealistic, Kai.”

“I’m serious.” Kai held him as tightly as he dared. “Last time D.O. and I were out scouting for Suho we came across this tiny little island out of the way. It’s got fresh water, a ton of fruit, and just enough room for two people to hide out on. You wouldn’t have to get married to someone you aren’t in love with, I wouldn’t have to tell Suho about the prince’s father, and we could be together. At least we could be together for whatever time we have left.”

“What did you say?” Luhan asked, frowning at him.

Kai repeated patiently, “There’s this island, and no one knows about--”

“No,” Luhan interrupted, real fear on his face. “About Kris’ father.”

Kai looked away immediately, letting Luhan slip away from him and create a buffer of space between their bodies. “I’m expected to report into Suho by the morning. I’ll have to tell him about the king’s health.”

“You can’t,” Luhan breathed out, his eyes wide and painfully worried. The expression made him look so young, and in fact Luhan always looked younger than he actually was. 

“I have to,” Kai argued back, watching from the corner of his eye as Lay rolled over on the bed, maybe feeling the lack of contact with Luhan. Either way, he knew he didn’t have much time left. “You know what I do, Luhan. You knew before I told you. My loyalties have always been clear to you, along with what I will do to assure K’s survival.”

It was still so fresh in his mind, that perfect moment when he’d tailed the prince and Luhan, along with half their entourage to the seaside a year earlier. While the prince had lounged around eating the kind of food frivolously that Kai knew K hadn’t seen in half a decade, Luhan had wandered off, driven forward by a vision and the promise of meeting Kai.

Kai had almost shot him accidentally, mistaking him for one of his guards and believing his cover had been compromised.

But then Luhan had said, “I know you’re there, Kai.”

Of course his response had been to ready himself for teleportation. He was faster now, and still got faster all the time, but back then it had take him a second or two to envision his destination and lock the imagine into his mind. He’d never teleported before without that lock. He’d seen, however, what had happened to another teleporter who’d been either unfortunate or lazy. Suffice to say, Kai was the only one of his kind left now.

“Don’t go.”

There’d been something about Luhan’s voice, sweet and unthreatening, that had made Kai pause long enough to have second thoughts and lose his lock.

“How do you know my name?”

With a grin impossibly wide, Luhan had replied, “Because you’re going to tell me what it is, and then we’re going to be important to each other.”

In retrospect, Kai had been doomed from the start with Luhan, but that had been the moment, the singular moment of recognition, when he’d fallen desperately in love.

“If you tell Commander Suho about Kris’ father, he’ll feel compelled to act on the information. He’ll see the weakness for what it is.”

Luhan’s words jarred Kai back to the present. “It’s not an option not to tell him the king is on his deathbed.” Kai nodded to Lay. “He’s your best healer, right? Even he hasn’t been able to cure the king, or even prolong his life by a few more months. The prince is at his majority. When the king dies, he’ll be legally old enough to ascend to the throne without a proxy. But he’ll still be young and inexperienced.”

Prince Kris would be over confident, untested and an easy mark, as far as Kai was concerned. He had a feeling Suho would share his sentiment. M was far superior in most industries, with the larger population and greater access to resources, but a weak ruler could tip the scales. 

Sadly, Luhan relayed, “Lay’s been trying for months to do something. Anything.”

“The king’s days are marked.”

Luhan gave a faint nod, swaying a little on his feet.

“Sit,” Kai said, helping him to the edge of the bed, and then sitting next to him. He forced a smile and relayed to Luhan, “We’ve always know this was going to be tricky. But we have always been honest with each other.” It was a slippery slope to walk with Luhan, and they’d hurt each other before on several occasions with miscommunication, but as long as the information that Kai learned wasn’t a direct threat to Luhan, Kai was going to report it.

“I don’t agree with what Kris’ father’s choices have been in this war. My heart breaks for your people, too, Kai, not just my own. But if M is perceived as weak in any way, and K gains the upper hand, they’ll do the same thing to M that has been done to them. Nothing will change.”

“Better your people than mine, Luhan. Yours can take the brunt for a while. Mine are at their limit.”

“Better no one’s,” Luhan said, his shoulders trembling.

Kai put a strong arm around him and pulled Luhan against him, trying to enfold him as much as possible. He told himself he’d be able to protect Luhan if something happened, but there really were too many variables. Too may things were out of their control, and his promises now just felt hollow. 

“If M falls,” Kai said, “whether it happens tomorrow or fifty years from now, know that I will come for you. I won’t leave you to …”

“To be pillaged and ravaged,” Luhan asked dryly. “I know what K will do to M if they’re strong enough to invade. Especially if I’m married to Kris at the time. But K will just be doing to M what M has been doing to K for ten years. Don’t you see the horror of the cycle?”

It was such a simple statement, one that probably didn’t next to be said to be felt, but Kai couldn’t help sighing out, “I really hate this. All of it.”

“Running away is actually starting to look like a viable option.”

Kai raised a hand to Luhan’s cheek and let his thumb rub over the soft skin there. “I do mean what I said, though. If the palace is breached, or if someone targets you, I’ll be here.”

There was a set of fierce determination in Luhan’s eyes. “I don’t need to be protected, Kai. I let you entertain the idea because it comforts you, but I’m more than capable of defending myself.”

“Against a hundred guys with abilities, high on the surge of war? And you’d better believe they’ll send that many in for you and for the prince. They won’t want to take any chances, if they do it.” If Suho did it. Suho, who cracked jokes and cared for Kai when no one else did, and had been the one to take a chance on him and his early, erratic manifestation of power. It hurt to think Suho was more than capable of ordering Luhan’s death, if the opportunity presented itself. And then Kai would be forced to turn against the man he considered an older brother.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, Kai. A hundred wouldn’t be enough to kill me.”

Honestly, Kai believed that. He believed the deadly tint to Luhan’s words. 

Kai’s hand on Luhan’s cheek stilled. “I know you are powerful and capable. You don’t need to be protected but you’re right, it makes me feel better to think I could be the one to do it. So even if you don’t need the protection, and even if you could kill me with your pinky finger, if something happens to M, if the tides of war every change, I will be here. Without hesitation.”

Luhan surprised him by leaning in suddenly for a searing kiss, breathing out sharply through his nose as he pressed in as deep as he could.

I’ve got you, Kai wanted to tell him, but it felt more like Luhan was the one who had him instead. 

“Not too late to run away,” Kai teased in-between kisses.

Luhan did not have a third ability. Kai knew it and was confident in the way that he knew he’d personally never have a second, so there was no way Luhan was feeding him any sort of power. But when they kissed, when Kai’s lips caught Luhan’s and they were more connected than Kai had ever been with anyone else, Kai felt super strong. He felt like he could move the ground like D.O. or manipulate the other elements like so many of his friends. Luhan’s mouth put fire in Kai’s blood like he thought Chanyeol had to feel.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Luhan said, his fingers scratching gently through the material of Kai’s thin shirt. “I just want to be here, with you, right now.”

If Lay and Xiumin hadn’t been in the room Kai would have laid Luhan out on his bed right there and then, and made love to him with every fiber of his being. He would have cherished him and comforted him in the ultimate act of love. But oddly enough, with that not an option, he was still content enough to simply kiss Luhan breathless.

“Will you be gone long this time?” Luhan asked after his lips was properly swollen and Kai was feeling a little buzzed.

Kai tried to frequent Luhan’s rooms in some sort of pattern, usually once every couple of weeks. It was never frequently enough to put himself in danger, but if he went too long real unease started to eat away at him. 

“Aren’t you going to beg me not to come back?”

Xiumin groaned in his sleep, slipping further down his chair. 

“He’ll be awake in a few minutes,” Luhan said, tracing his line of sight. “And while I assure you that he will hesitate to act until he’s sure you’re a threat to me, it won’t take him long to come to that distinction and freeze something off. Something vital, I might add.” Luhan took a deep breath, looking weary. “I won’t ask you not to come back again. I’ve never been able to tell you what to do before, I can’t imagine it’ll change now. I’m also starting to think you have a danger complex.”

“I’ve been accused of such a thing before ,” Kai agreed. He bent to kiss Luhan for the last time, relaying, “I probably won’t be back for a while. At least not until the king is dead. Suho won’t want to risk me being exposed until the prince has his coronation. It may be several months before we see each other again.”

Quietly, Luhan told him, “There’s been talk of moving the wedding up. In fact, it’s almost set. Kris wants it done before his father passes. He thinks it’ll present him as a stronger leader when he takes the crown. He’s not wrong in that.”

“When,” Kai ground out, his voice terribly rough. 

“A week.”

“That’s not enough time for a royal wedding.” Kai could feel his blunt nails digging into the skin of his palms as his fists tightened. “Doesn’t the prince want a spectacle?”

Luhan wouldn’t meet his gaze and Kai felt like he was losing him completely. 

“We’ll likely be married in a small, private ceremony before the king passes, and then something more public afterwards.”

So the next time he saw Luhan, he’d have no right to him. Luhan would be another man’s spouse, and Kai was no adulterer. He couldn’t ask Luhan to be one, either.

“Fine,” Kai bit out, and it was the only kind of response he could come up with. Other than screaming until his throat was raw, which would land him either dead or in the dungeon. M probably had a dungeon somewhere.

“Kai,” Luhan pleaded, Xiumin shifting again. “Please don’t leave angry with me.”

Angry with him? Kai wondered how he could ever be angry with Luhan for doing the best he could. Luhan wasn’t marrying the prince to be malicious. He was doing it because there was nothing else for him to do, and he cared too much for other people. 

“I’m not angry,” Kai said gruffly. “Now ask me not to come back and see you.”

Startled, Luhan demanded, “What?”

Kai readied himself, squaring his shoulders, his heart heaving and hurting. He repeated, “Ask me not to come back. Because I’m from K and you’re from M. Because I’m a street kid who got lucky and had a useful ability, while you’re insanely powerful with royal blood running through you. Luhan, ask me not to come back and see you anymore because we can’t run away together, and you’re getting married to another man. Ask me. Tell me.”

There were tears in Luhan’s eyes and Kai’s own were burning something fiercer that he couldn’t allow out.

“Don’t do this,” Luhan begged, reaching up to touch the underside of his own nose as blood seeped over his fingers. “I can … we …”

“I won’t come back,” Kai said, hating himself deeply. It took everything in his power not to reach out and comfort Luhan, or fuss over his bloody nose, or show even a shred of uncertainty. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Kai. Please.”

“I love you, Luhan,” Kai said, then took a step back. “And if you need me, I’ll be here. But the truth is I’ve always needed you more than you’ll ever need me.”

“Luhan?” Xiuhan mumbled, his eyes cracking open.

“I have to go,” Kai said quickly, panic starting to set in. “Tell them I tried to hurt you. If anyone asks, this is a blotched assassination attempt.” If he waited any longer he wouldn’t be able to hold it in. He’d be a blubbering mess. 

“You would never hurt me,” Luhan argued, more blood flowing, running over his fingers, painting his nails red.

“Luhan!” 

Xiumin was up on his feet a second later, eyes analyzing the situation. There was quick recognition of both Kai’s status as an intruder and the blood streaking down Luhan’s face. 

“No, Xiumin. Don’t!”

It happened so quickly even Kai could barely keep up.

He had a lock in his mind. He could see his childhood home so easily, the creaky hovel that had barely sheltered him from the danger outside. But just as the lock fell into place and Kai began to teleport, shards of deadly ice were flung his way. The ice was faster than he was, and it seemed his fate was inevitable, at least until a heavy weight slammed into him.

Luhan pushed him so suddenly out of the way Kai broke the lock of his destination. The picture of his childhood home slipped away, but it was too late to stop himself from popping out of existence. He was already gone, a survival instinct taking over, blotting out reason from his mind that he was in terrible danger.

But in that split second, in the slightest time between losing the lock in his mind, and his ability taking over, Luhan was at the forefront of his mind. Luhan … Luhan was still in danger. Luhan and the ice were on a collision course meant for Kai, and Kai thought even Luhan didn’t have time to stop the shards.

The only thing Kai could do was curl his fingers around Luhan’s tiny wrist and squeeze hard enough to bruise. 

His lock was gone and a half second after that he was hurdling into an unknown void that would surely kill him. Worse than that, Luhan was coming with him, and Kai was absolutely sure in his last few moments of consciousness that this counted as kidnapping. M would come at K with every bit of their power in a bid to recover Luhan. They’d destroy and burn everything to the ground. It would be Kai’s fault. He would carry the burden of the lives lost.

If he or Luhan even survived to know the damage.


	2. Suho

Admittedly, Suho was very aware of the fact that he had not achieved his position as Commander of K by work merit alone. He did, in fact, work very hard, and experienced plenty of sleepless nights that often made him look much older than he was, but he hadn’t been primed for the position from a young age. He hadn’t expected to inherit the command, or even to rise much higher than the commander’s advisory committee. There’d been a dozen more capable men and women ahead of him in rank and ability when he’d been a teen at the start of the war. He’d expected casualties in the chain of command along the way. He hadn’t expected there to be so many that he was in command by the time he was twenty-five.

However, neither was it really that much of a surprise. Suho thrived in the face of adversity, persevered harder than any of his peers, and prided himself on his contributions to the war effort. He was smart, capable and dedicated. He was all the things, or at least liked to think he was, that made a good commander.

He commanded respect. 

And neither did it hurt that his family had been one of the original seven. He’d only been a boy, a young one at that, when his family had fled to the south to escape the growing demands of the crown. By the time K had split away from M, before the actual war had started over dwindling natural resources, systems of government, and the rights to Mama’s physical representation, his family had been well established and wealthy. In the face of poverty around him, Suho could still remember attending one of the very few proper boy’s schools, and receiving the kind of education that would propel him up through K’s military ranks.

“Sir,” Baekhyun said, his voice clear and even as he stood at Suho’s elbow, “I have the casualty repots for last week. The final numbers have been tallied, both from the military and the civilian sides.”

With a long look out at the recently ravaged landscape in front of him, Suho turned to Baekhyun and accepted the palm sized electronic pad. 

“You look tired,” Suho said, glancing at his subordinate. “Get some sleep when we’re home. You look like you’ve been up all night.”

Suho himself hadn’t slept a wink. The attack at the neutral area’s boarder city had come out of nowhere, and had violated the one last agreement that M had kept with K since the start of the war ten years prior. It was the kind of attack that was unprovoked, even in times of war, and brutal to say the least.

Suho wondered if he was too desensitized now to truly feel the impact.

“I’m not tired, sir,” Baekhyun said.

Suho liked to joke with some of his finest officers, typically over a bottle of bad alcohol, stale rations and dented playing cards, that Baekhyun was the true sprit of K. Baekhyun, more than Suho, more than the soldiers, and even more than the specials with their abilities, kept K going. Baekhyun was the kind of secretary turned military advisor that saved lives without want or need for recognition of the act.

His fingers moved the data around on the pad in front of him and Suho couldn’t help asking, “Did you have anyone in the neutral area that you cared about?”

Baekhyun shook his head almost immediately. “I had a younger sister once, sir, but she died a few years ago. She refused to go to the neutral area when I asked her to. She thought it wasn’t safe.”

“She wasn’t wrong,” Suho mumbled, but it wasn’t because of the burned homes in front of him, the lifeless children scattered all around, or the breach of something so profoundly agreed upon that it was short circuiting Suho’s brain to even comprehend it.

No where was safe, even before the neutral area had been decimated by M troops. K wasn’t safe with the looming invasion kept in mind, or the sickness due to poor living conditions running rampant in most areas. Though neither was M safe, at least on the fringes of their territory with the rogue K assassins wiping out civilians in a desperate attempt to compensate. But at least the neutral area had been a believable lie. It had been the one place that people told themselves they could go and be safe, even if they knew the truth. 

Looking away from the pad for a moment, Suho said dully, “I have a cousin out here somewhere. He was about to age out next month. He would have come to stay with me then.”

Baekhyun’s eyes were red, conformation that he’d been crying earlier, but it was no sign of weakness. Sometimes Suho cried himself to sleep, when no one was watching, and all he could think about were the lives that he had power over, and the young soldiers who’s deaths were on his shoulders.

Kai was the only one who knew about the tears. Kai had cried with him, on more than one occasion.

“Why?” Baekhyun asked, taking the pad back from Suho when it was offered. “Why would M do this? The agreement--”

“Means nothing to M, clearly.”

Baekhyun made a shuddering sound. “They had nothing to gain from attacking a five square mile wide area that was inhabited by children and the elderly. There were not a threat to anyone … I know there were M citizens in the neutral area, too. They killed their own people. Why would the king do this?”

To that, Suho had no answer. The king had, however, been erratic as of late. He’d been making more forceful calls in his military strategies, the kinds of decisions that Suho hadn’t begun to expect until recently. He was more boastful and more brazen than he’d been in years, and he was growing, not diminishing, as an opponent. He was formidable. 

“Baekhyun,” Suho said, feeling like the boy deserved some kind of an honest answer. “The M citizens that lived in the neutral area were the poorest of the poor. They were the orphans, the forgotten and abandoned, with no skills or nothing to add to the war effort. M left them, and the children of K alone, because the king understood the necessity of a place such as the neutral area.”

“Then what changed?”

Suho had met the king twice in his life, both before the war. His parents had been educators in the capital, well paid and part of an elite class that Suho didn’t even understand anymore. He remembered the king as a loud man, overly confident, but not threatening. Suho also remembered his son, Kris, who would be Suho’s rival in the coming years.

The war would last for at least that much longer. It had burned, fueled by discord and rage for a decade, and Suho could see it going another ten until people were too fatigued to fight anymore.

“Sir?”

Baekhyun was dependable. He was the kind of person that could be trusted with classified information, and wouldn’t be bribed into giving it up. He never asked for much, lived in the same conditions as the soldiers who fought, and the loyalty in his eyes would have been near impossible to fake. 

He could be trusted.

“Where is Chanyeol? Still moping around headquarters?” Suho asked, putting his back to the scene behind him. M troops had swooped in mere hours ago, leveled the area with fire, and then retreated back to their previous posts. They hadn’t advanced the area, like a normal skirmish would have demanded, and that meant this had been nothing but a message. Suho just wondered what that message was.

After thinking for a moment, Baekhyun said confidently, with the smallest of a blush to his pale features, “The last I saw of him, he was up late with D.O. in the Mess Hall. I said goodbye to him before I left to accompany you here. Chanyeol’s been restless lately, sir. He isn’t being allowed on the front lines and it’s eating at him. And he knows D.O. is lonely with Kai gone on assignment. I think they’re drowning their sorrows with bad alcohol together.”

“Do you know why I’m keeping him back behind the barricades? Especially with what he can do?”

Baekhyun shook his head, but admitted, “I have wondered, sir.”

It took Suho a second to remember that Baekhyun was gifted himself. If he ever enlisted formally he’d be elevated in rank almost immediately, and there were several perks that came with being an enlisted special. Baekhyun’s specialty was light manipulation, and Suho couldn’t even begin to think of how useful it could be on the battlefield to blind their opponents. 

But clearly Baekhyun had his reasons for not wanting to join in anything other than a supporting position, and Suho was not the king. He was not the type to force someone to do anything they didn’t want to. If K ever won their complete freedom from M, command was as far as Suho was willing to take his status. He didn’t want to replace one king only to situate himself in as another. Suho wanted K to be a true democracy, and he believed it could be. 

“Because,” Suho said, heading away from the scene at a steady pace. It had been a risk coming so far from K’s capital, but he’d needed to see for himself. He’d needed to know if everyone had been killed, or if there’d been a chance his cousin survived. 

Baekhyun trailed after Suho diligently. “Because, sir?”

“Because we have a traitor in our midst,” Suho said quietly, nodding at the nearby soldiers who saluted him. His tent was up ahead, still standing and good protection from the morning’s strong sun.

To his credit, Baekhyun said nothing until they were safely inside, most of Suho’s things already packed up for the trip back to K’s capitol. 

“I received a warning a week ago,” Suho told Baekhyun, sitting with a groan on a nearby trunk. When they’d gotten the word seven hours ago that the neutral area was under attack from M, Suho had gone as quickly as he could, bringing almost nothing with him. The trunk was filled with a few things that had been salvaged from the rubble. Things that Suho thought might mean something to family members back in K. He’d see about that when he had the time. “M is now well aware of Chanyeol’s secondary ability. He’s gone straight to the top of their interested list, and I’ve been doing my best to help him avoid getting killed.”

Baekhyun fumbled the pad in his hands, dropping it to the ground with a soft swear. “Sorry, sir.” Baekhyun knelt down to pick it up with shaking hands.

“They know about the phoenix,” Suho confirmed. “And they won’t want to capture Chanyeol alive. He’s too much of a risk to the current balance of our war. Or maybe he’s just too much of a risk to the prince and his dragon.”

“Chanyeol wouldn’t challenge the prince,” Baekhyun argued, pad back in his hands. “He’s not a risk to the prince. They don’t need to kill him.”

Suho gave a dark chuckle. “We’re K, Baekhyun. They need to kill us on principal alone. It won’t matter to them if Chanyeol has no want or desire to go knocking on the palace door to call the prince out. They’ll see him as a serious threat, as one of only a few K citizens with double abilities, and they will kill him on sight. They’ll swarm him and he won’t stand a chance.”

That had to be scarier to Baekhyun than dying himself. Chanyeol and Baekhyun had been together since before Suho had met them, more than five years, and practically married for two. They were attached at the hip, at least when they weren’t at work, and they were more in love than Suho had ever seen two people be.

Of course, he’d seen them go at each other in vicious fights over the stupidest things, too. That was probably how they knew they were really in love, Chanyeol throwing fireballs and Baekhyun tossing everything from shoes to books back at his head with deadly accuracy. Witnessing their fights gave Suho a good idea of what they could be like if they ever went into battle together.

“If you see him before I do,” Suho said, “send him my way. I need to have a talk with him about that. He may be getting his surveillance mission after all, since he can’t go into direct combat.”

Baekhyun was still pale from their recent subject when he nodded and said, “I will do that, sir. But can I ask why?” He passed the pad back to Suho when he gestured for it once more.

Suho swiped his fingers over the pad in front of him, then turned it around so Baekhyun could see the pictures more clearly. “This area wasn’t leveled by a group much bigger than what we have here, and looking at the destruction, I’d bet my command that there were more than a couple soldiers with fire abilities. Chanyeol might be my best chance at determining that for sure. And if it is the case, we have bigger issues than I thought.”

Only a very small portion of the population, on either K or M’s side, were gifted with abilities by Mama. It was less than two percent of the population, to be more precise, and the one thing that Suho knew emphatically was that pound for pound, both sides were also evenly matched in that department. Suho could account for the men and women with fire abilities in the same way that the king could account for almost everyone in K that could wield water.

Some abilities were more rare than others, such as Kai’s teleportation, or the prince’s flight ability, and there were always a few unaccounted for specials born every year. But for the most part, both sides were privy to the kind of artillery they were playing with.

Except Suho didn’t think M had more than a couple fire users, and the ones that he did know about were placed too far away from the neutral area to actually have played a part in its destruction. 

So that begged the question, where had these specials with their fire abilities come from? Did it have something to do with Mama’s life tree being in M’s territory for the past few years? Everyone knew that Mama’s life tree influenced everything from the birth rate to the control they had over their abilities.

“I’ll find Chanyeol for you as soon as I get back,” Baekhyun promised. “But please do your best to help keep him safe.” Blowing out a long breath of air, he added, “Chanyeol could get a life threatening illness from a paper cut with his luck. I don’t trust him not to get himself killed sneaking his way back to the frontline.”

That kind of talk gave Suho the laugh he needed. 

Suho and Baekhyun, along with their contingent of soldiers, headed back to K’s capitol almost a half day’s drive away. They’d moved the capitol twice now, each time to avoid the advancement of M’s troops into an already heavily occupied K. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be pushed back again, maybe to the coast. There’d be nowhere left to go after that. Exo was feeling smaller and smaller by the day, and she wasn’t very big to begin with.

“I’ll go find Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said once they were home, climbing down from the truck they’d ridden in with ease. “Unless you need me, sir?”

“Go.” Suho waved him off. 

D.O. was waiting for him at his office, which meant he and Chanyeol were clearly not off drowning their sorrows over their working partners. The look on D.O.’s face also said something was horribly wrong.

“What is it?” Suho demanded right away.

D.O. grimaced and Suho could tell his already bad day had just gotten significantly worse.

“Kai never checked in with me this morning.”

Suho strode over to his desk and sat gingerly in the old, squeaky chair that was far past its prime, and had belonged to the man who’d been commander before Suho, but was still damn comfortable and had too much history to throw away. “That’s not unusual.”

Kai wasn’t exactly known for his promptness, especially if something caught his eye. Kai’d come a long way from the impulsive kid he’d been six years ago, using his wildly unstable ability to steal enough food to feed the small army of orphan followers who’d refused to seek refuge in the neutral area. 

“No,” D.O. agreed, “it’s not unusual for him to be a little late. He’s coming up on eight hours now. He was supposed to be back a few hours after sunrise. I had his word, and Kai never breaks his word.”

Kai was more than seasoned. That was what Suho told himself immediately. Kai had been shadowing the royal family, and in particular the prince, for over a year. He knew M better than K, at this point, and was almost obsessively careful in his actions. Suho also had to imagine that if something had gone wrong, and Kai was now in M’s custody, that he would have heard about it by now. 

Suho waved off D.O.’s concern, stating, “He probably saw something that caught his attention and went to investigate, or, with any luck, he’s onto something. He’s reported back late in the past, and it was because he’d learned something that was of significant value to us.”

And yet … there as something odd on D.O.’s face. There was something that upset Suho’s stomach immediately, and had his eyes narrowing. “What?”

“Kai … he ….”

Crestfallen, Suho demanded, “What’s Kai done now?”

Kai, that smart mouthed little brat, was always causing Suho indigestion. Bringing him into the fold, and helping his master his abilities had been the best thing Suho had ever done with his life, but sometimes it also felt like the worst.

D.O. came to stand formally in front of Suho, and that was an even greater indication that something was terribly wrong. D.O. was a stickler for regulations, but slacked noticeably when it came to the subject of Kai. His best friend was his ultimate weakness.

“I don’t know for certain,” D.O. admitted, “but there’s a possibility Kai is seeing someone. That could be why he hasn’t checked in yet. Maybe he got … distracted.”

There was an edge to D.O.’s voice that Suho couldn’t properly determine, but it made him pause. He’d wondered, once and very briefly, if there was something a little more to Kai and D.O.’s relationship. They shadowed each other everywhere, only worked with each other, lived together, ate most of their meals together, and some days only talked to each other. They had a special bond that went beyond being mere friends, but it was never clear if that was a romantic type of bond. This could be, Suho pondered, a case of D.O. being a little green.

He truly hoped it was, and not anything worse.

“Kai has someone.” D.O. put his hands up defensively. “I don’t know who, he won’t tell me or even admit to it, but I know the look on his face when I question him. There’s someone he cares about, he maybe even loves them. It’s bad news, sir.”

Suho waved a hand dismissively. “Kai’s a good looking guy. He’s got a great rank, he’s extremely unique in his abilities and he’s absurdly charismatic. Girls and guys are going to be attracted to him. And he’s young, with a dangerous profession. He should get out there and enjoy himself while he can.”

“I agree,” D.O. said, and with enough conviction that Suho believed him. “But that isn’t the problem.”

Suho leaned forward. “Then what is?”

It was the way D.O. shifted his balance between his two feet awkwardly, and slight rumbling under Suho’s own feet that alluded to a bigger issue.

“The person he’s involved with … they’re not …” D.O. took a deep breath. “I know for a fact they’re not a K citizen. Kai sees them when he’s in M’s territory. It’s a M citizen.”

Suho gripped the edges of his desk with his fingers. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t know who it is, he’s never said, but I know he’s visiting someone romantically on the job, and I’m worried that he’s fallen in love with someone who’s sold him out to M’s regime. Kai may have been double crossed.”

It wasn’t that Suho didn’t think K and M should mix together. As much as he held to the belief that K deserved to be its own separate, autonomous country outside of M’s sphere of influence, he understood that love didn’t recognize boundaries. However they were at war, and Kai’s job had been to spy on the royal family with his abilities and collect relevant data. A romance could have easily compromised that, and brought a whole slue of troubles down on them.

D.O. was right. In a time of war, romances were only hindrances.

“If this is true,” Suho said slowly, “and he’s been caught, or killed, you know there isn’t anything we can do. M and K have spies in each others ranks, and there’s no amnesty or protection if they’re caught.”

With startling force D.O. stated, “Kai is not dead. He might be stupid enough to think with his genitals instead of his brain, but he’s too smart to be killed. He’s a teleporter. He could have escaped right away if he was discovered.”

Suho ticked off his fingers, “Unless they had dampeners, overpowered him, took him out before he even realized he’d been made, or any other number of things.”

“He’s not dead, and I want to go look for him.”

Dedicated friendship was foolish at times. At the very least it made fools out of normally sane people. D.O. was one of Suho’s most dedicated officers, but his loyalty to Kai over the mission at hand was something hard to forgive.

“Absolutely not.” Suho leaned back in his chair, his feet aching from being up on them the entire day before, and then through the night to the morning at the neutral area. “Unless you’ve suddenly developed a second ability that you neglected to tell anyone about. And that second ability had better be the ability to teleport, because there is absolutely no way you are going to simply stroll across the boarder. Especially in light of what happened last night. You have been briefed, haven’t you?”

With a hardened gaze, D.O. nodded. “All of the officers were informed of recent developments in the neutral area early this morning.”

“Then you understand that things have changed. M is no long respecting the rules that were put in place ten years ago. They haven’t specified why, either. But at this point there is absolutely nothing to stop them from rolling into our nearest town and leveling it just like they did to the neutral area. I can’t afford to send any of my soldiers out who have abilities, especially my officers. You aren’t going anywhere, D.O., and the second Kai gets back, he won’t be either. This tryst with a M citizen will be over.”

“What if he doesn’t come back?” D.O. asked bluntly. “What if he was caught in a dampener’s field? What if he’s sitting in some jail cell right now, hoping for rescue?”

This was the worst part of Suho’s job. There was no doubt in his mind Kai was one of his most valuable assets. Kai could get in and out of places that normal soldiers couldn’t. And if he was being truthful, Kai truly was like a little brother to Suho. Suho felt an obligation to look out for him, and make sure he survived the war. But not even Kai was worth compromising their position in the war.

“Then he stays there. Kai understood the risks when he agreed to his assignment, and you also need to understand that this is bigger than just one person. What M did last night to the neutral area, to those children and elders, it was a deliberate show of power to us. M is threatening us, and it is my job to see K through this. So Kai will stay wherever he is, at the very least until I figure out what M’s plan is, and if, I repeat if, there is a chance he can be rescued, we will. But you’re forgetting we still don’t have any evidence that he was caught in the first place. You’re assuming.”

“He would have checked in by now,” D.O. argued, but his body language spoke volumes that he was already submitting to Suho’s ruling. “Even if he fell asleep in some rich, snobby M boy’s bed, he would have been back by now. Something is wrong.”

“Suho! Commander Suho!”

Baekhyun burst through Suho’s closed door a half second later, completely out of breath, flushed unhandsomely, and a look of pure, unadulterated fear on his face. 

“What is this?” Suho demanded, surging to his feet. It wasn’t like Baekhyun to interrupt him when he was in his office with someone, especially an officer, and it was even less like Baekhyun to be out of breath, which meant he’d been running through the halls.

“There’s a call for you,” Baekhyun wheezed out. “On the vidphone.”

That was hardly cause for Baekhyun to all but break down his door in a tizzy. “From who?” Suho asked, trying to remain patient with the younger man. 

With wide eyes, Baekhyun’s gaze flickered over to D.O., clearly not sure if it was safe to talk. To the best of Suho’s knowledge, Baekhyun and D.O. had been friends for a long time, but if he was hesitating either the call was classified, or something even worse. Maybe both.

“Sir … I don’t think that …”

“Who is it?” Suho ignored his words. 

Baekhyun took several deliberate steps forward, dropped his voice and said, “It’s a call from M. Directly from the palace. Sir, it’s Prince Kris and he’s demanding to speak directly to you.”

Suho’s head cocked to the side, and for a half second he froze. “The prince is on the vidphone?”

Baekhyun gave a shaky nod. “He’s accusing us of kidnapping his cousin. He’s claiming responsibility for the neutral area and threatening a repeat of every populated area his army comes across until his cousin is returned to him. He says he’ll unleash the full might of M’s army and … and level K if necessary.”

Reeling physically back in alarm, D.O. questioned, “We kidnapped the prince’s cousin? The one he’s supposed to get married to? Isn’t he supposed to be heavily sheltered? He never leaves the palace, except under the prince’s request, and it’s always with a heavier guard than the prince himself. We kidnapped that cousin?”

“No, we did not,” Suho said humorlessly, following Baekhyun down the hallway and towards the secure line without hesitation.

“Through here,” Baekhyun directed, guiding Suho into a room. 

Suho cut his eyes at the vidphone near the wall. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to Baekhyun, demanding, “I want to know how he got through. Our lines are supposed to be protected.” As Baekhyun turned to fill the request, Suho caught him suddenly, adding, “And discreetly snoop around while you’re at it.”

As the other people in the room filed out, Baekhyun asked in a whisper, “Dig around for what?”

Suho took a moment to straighten out his clothing before he went to verbal war with the prince of K. “I didn’t authorize the kidnapping of the prince’s cousin, and I’m about to defend that to the prince of K until I’m blue in the face. While I’m doing that, you need to make sure I’m not lying without knowing it.”

“You think someone went and kidnapped the prince’s cousin without your permission?” Baekhyun questioned. 

“I don’t know,” Suho said honestly. “That’s what you’re going to figure out. And quickly.”

Baekhyun gave a sharp salute. “I understand, sir.”

“Prince Kris,” Suho greeted, taking his seat and unmuting the feed. “I’m sure you’ll understand why this is unexpected for me. There hasn’t been a direct transmission between K and M in several years.”

Kris’ stern face peered back through the video screen with an mixture of contempt and superiority. “Don’t think for a second, Commander Suho, that I’m going to buy your innocent routine. You know very well why we’re speaking to each other.”

With an impassive expression, Suho replied, “You’re under the very false assumption that I’ve taken one of your men hostage. Please note that I used the word false.” 

In all actuality, both K and M took very few hostages. Skirmishes were always long and drawn out, with each side fighting almost incessantly to the death. It was a sad truth that had both side’s numbers dwindling rapidly, and it made Suho apprehensive about sending many of his operatives out into unmatched battles.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Kris demanded.

Suho leaned back in his chair. “I think you shouldn’t ask me those kinds of questions.”

It bothered Suho, now that the shock had worn off, that it was Kris who’d placed the call. Even if a direct line had come through from M, it should have been a representative of the crown, or the king himself. Suho had dealt with the king the last time M and K had talked, weeks after Suho had obtained the position of commander of K. He’d been so frightened, so absolutely terrified of his new power, that he’d almost wet himself.

Kris snapped, “This was not just some dud of a solider taken in the heat of battle. And he was snatched from his bedroom, in the palace, in the middle of the night by one of your men.”

Yes, Baekhyun had said that it was the prince’s older, but more compassionate cousin who’d been taken. Luhan. The people’s darling. 

“Your cousin,” Suho said, locking eyes with Kris. 

The first time he’d seen Luhan had been the first time he’d seen Kris. Suho still remembered being allowed to play with them once as a small child, and how worried his mother had seemed at the notion. It had taken Suho all of five minute to realize why his mother had been worried, and why his father hadn’t strayed too far from them. 

Luhan was a little mischievous, but overall good natured. He’d wanted to share an adventure with Suho right from the start, and almost doted on him, overjoyed to have someone new to play with. Kris hadn’t liked that one bit. Kris was the kind of child, and likely the kind of man, who wanted to be the most important to the people he cared about 

Plenty of rumors pegged Kris as overly obsessed with his cousin. Maybe it was Luhan’s kind nature, something that was a rarity among M citizens, or his natural beauty. There was also the possibility that Kris’ obsession stemmed from the fact that Luhan probably had the most intense connection to Mama out of any other person on the planet. There were rumors of his weakened health due to that condition, but nothing had since been proven, and Luhan almost never left the palace. 

Kris’ voice rose as he said, “Yes, my cousin. And he was taken from his bedroom last night. His bedroom. Do I come into your home and steal your people from their beds?”

“No,” Suho said calmly, “but you’ll waltz into neutral areas, against the accord that your father and my predecessor signed, and slaughter innocent children. There were several thousand sleeping in their beds when you set that town on fire and burned them alive.”

There was some weird twitch to the corner of Kris’ face. It was gone as quickly as it was there, and Suho didn’t know what it meant, but it was something.

“You stole my cousin, so I’ve stolen yours.”

It was only years of dedication to maintaining control that had Suho remaining in his seat. Only a few years ago, if he’d been taunted in in such a way the video monitor would probably have been in pieces and everything electronic in the room would have been water damaged. 

“You killed my cousin,” Suho bit back. “And you still have no proof that M had any involvement in the disappearance of your cousin. You’re simply looking to the easiest target.”

Kris’ face hardened further. “If you don’t return him to me, completely unharmed and within the next few hours, I’ll burn K to the ground the way I did that stupid neutral area.”

Suho laughed loudly at that, ignoring the burst of nervousness in his chest. “I’m not disillusioned that M has the greater army. You have access to a lot of resources that K hasn’t seen in years, but you’re absolutely crazy if you think you have the force to take K. We’re well matched as far as abilities go and if you haven’t been able to take us in the ten years this war has been going, what makes you think that you can do it now that you feel personally offended?”

“I am more than offended!”

Suho continued, “Having a few extra, unaccounted for fire wielders does not win a war.”

There was some commotion on Kris’ side and before long a tall body was leaning into the feed to whisper something into Kris’ ear. Suho would recognize Tao anywhere, from his distinct facial features to his strong presence. Suho had personally fought against Tao once before, in the early stages of the war when Suho had been a teen and Tao had been even younger. Tao’s abilities were beyond lethal. 

“The man that kidnapped my cousin had a very distinct ability,” Kris said. “There were several other people in the room when the abduction happened, and at least one who is completely aware of what he saw. It was one of your men and I won’t sit here and have you lie to me.”

“I gave no such order,” Suho waved off. “What need do I have for a frail boy?” As Kris’ eyes widened, Suho pressed, “He is that, isn’t he? Frail? It’s what the rumors say. I’m no predator, your highness. I have no interest in a boy who can’t fight back, and neither are my men. Maybe yours don’t listen to your orders, by mine do not engage in insubordination. I don’t have your cousin.”

“You’re the only one who has a teleporter in your ranks.”

Suho froze, and he couldn’t hide it fast enough from Kris.

“The man who took my cousin, your operative, did so by appearing directly in his room. And then, whether his mission was to kill Luhan or take him, when he was discovered by one of my cousin’s companions, he fled the scene by way of teleportation with Luhan in tow. Now, are you going to continue to sit there and tell me that you’re not behind this?”

If he’d been alone, or at least out of sight of Kris, Suho would have sworn loudly. Kai. There was no way it was anyone other than Kai. 

“I didn’t authorize any kidnapping,” Suho said, trying not to sound desperate, but wanting to convey the truth of it. “If it happened, it was without my permission, and this is certainly the first I’m hearing about it.”

“I didn’t know you had so little control of your subordinates,” Kris scoffed.

Neither did Suho. His only hope was that Kai had acted deliberately and with a very good reason. The kind of reason that could win them the war. If he’d done it for any other reason, or if, Mama forbid, Luhan was the M citizen Kai had been having a lover’s game with, they were in serious trouble.

Voice rising to be a heavy, authoritative tone, Kris said, “It’s not my concern if you are aware of what your operatives are doing. It is my concern that my cousin is returned to me as healthy as he was taken. You have a full day, starting from the moment he was taken, to return him to us. If he isn’t returned by that time, M will end all of these petty, indiscriminate skirmishes and we will come straight for you in your capitol. You say you’re not pushovers, and I believe that, but I’m also willing to wager my forces against yours in one final push.”

“You’re talking crazy!” Suho shouted, climbing to his feet.

Kris added, “The neutral area was the first, but it won’t be the last. I’ll level every town, city or populated area that I come across on my way to you, and I will be coming personally for you with all my might. We’ll let our soldiers fight each other, and the ones with abilities that we usually hold back, they’ll fight too. But me and you, that’ll be the real show. Me and you. Unless you return Luhan to me. You now have less than a day.”

“Wait!” Suho called out. 

The call disconnected and for a brief second Suho lost control of his ability. 

“Sir?”

An unmarked solider that Suho was unfamiliar with poked his head in the room, inquiring if he was okay.

Suho blinked away the water that was dripping down from his bangs into his eyes. His clothing squished a bit as he stormed past the man, feet thudding heavily on the ground as his walk turned to a run, and then he was sprinting down to their communications center.

“Commander?” one of the technicians asked as he burst through the door, splashing water from his clothing everywhere.

“Get me D.O. right now. I want him in the war room in fifteen minutes. Get the other officers as well, and find me Baekhyun!”

“Sir?”

“Now!” Suho barked out, water starting to pool around his feet as it dripped from his fingertips, his ability running rampant.

Regardless if Kai had been the one to take Luhan, or if some other force was at play, they had to decide what to do. Either they found Kai, and hoped to find Luhan alive and well, or they began preparing for the end.

There’d been no mistaking the glint in Kris’ eyes as he’d issued his ultimatum. M would be breaking down their doors by the next morning, and they had precious little time to prepare for a full scale invasion.


	3. Tao

There were many things Tao found himself grateful for on a daily basis.

First and foremost, he was grateful that his mother had insisted upon a pilgrimage to Mama’s great life tree during her pregnancy with him, even amidst the protests of his father who was not a believer. There was no proof, at least nothing conclusive, that exposing unborn children to Mama directly was responsible for a greater chance of them being born with abilities, but most people believed it to be the truth. 

Tao himself had urged his older sister to visit Mama regularly during her pregnancy, and he had high hopes that his niece would develop something astonishing during puberty.

Life was easier with abilities. Sometimes, Tao witnessed, it made you a target, but other times it saved your life.

Of course all that led directly to what he was grateful for secondly. If he hadn’t been gifted by Mama, and if he hadn’t begun to manifest his abilities just before the start of the war, he could have been trapped with his family on one of the boarder towns that had been hit first.

The war they were waging now, the war with K, was more of a war of attrition than anything else. There were big battles, and they did spend months engaging the enemy at a time, trying to reunite K and M for the betterment of Exo, but the war was nothing now like it had been. Tao chalked it up to everyone being exhausted, their population being dangerously low, their natural resources dwindling, and both sides with abilities being more or less matched. 

Some days, not that Tao would ever let Kris know, he thought it might be better just to let K go. If they wanted their independence so badly, if they wanted to be free to struggle and fail as a nation on their own, then what did M need with people like that? If K was independent, and M was free of the burden that they were, Tao was certain Kris would be a happier person. He wouldn’t be so weighted down with purpose and expectation.

But truly, when Tao thought about his own situation, he was very aware he had escaped death only because his abilitiy had manifested early. His elder sister had shown no signs of any ability, so it had come as a shock to Tao one day when he found that being able to manipulate the flow of time came as easy to him as breathing. His mother had reported him directly to the king and they’d been swept away from their boarder town, his family compensated and Tao taken into the king’s ranks to be trained. 

Tao had gone back. Once. He’d needed to see the rubble of the town that had been destroyed mere months after his family had been escorted to M’s capital. He’d never felt so much like he had cheated death. No even in years to come when he’d faced some of his fiercest opponents on the battlefield. 

Lastly, when he thought of everything in his life that there was to be grateful for, his highness Prince Kris was at the very top of the list.

Tao hadn’t had many friends in the palace during his training period. He’d been previously living in a boarder town, his accent was different from those who’d been born in the capital and surrounding areas. He was taller than almost everyone else, and his power scared them. They accused him of manipulating them, and they hated him for the preference some of the older guardsmen showed for him.

But not Kris.

Kris had stopped him one day while he was enjoying a small bit of personal time, strolled right up to him and asked, “Who are you? I haven’t seen you around here before. You’re with the junior guard?”

His uniform had given him away, the red sash and metallic shine to his uniform indicating that he wasn’t yet one of the king’s elite. 

Tao hadn’t known what to say. None of the royal family had ever given him so much of a glance, aside from Luhan, of course, who was too nice and too aware of the people around him. It was sort of a wonder Luhan wasn’t an empathic, with the way he could read people and their emotions so easily.

It wasn’t his place to speak to the prince, it wasn’t even his place to look at him, but no matter what he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to shake the prince. For months the prince had sought him out, asking him questions about his life before coming to the palace, insisting on spending time together.

Maybe it was because they were both misfits; Tao with the kind of ability that was rarer than most of the others, and Kris with the isolation due to his position, and his decidedly lacking social skills. 

Then had come the day when Tao had surpassed expectations, earned his right to be considered an elite, and was days away from being posted to the king’s personal guard.

“You’re going to be one of mine,” Kris had stated emphatically, tugging on the red sash across Tao’s chest like he usually did. “When this is gone, you’re going to be mine. Not my father’s.”

“Do you … have that authority?” 

The best went to the king, especially as the war carried on. There’d been an assassination attempt on the king’s last tour of the battlefield. Tao expected to be at the king’s side before the week was out.

Kris’ eyes narrowed. “I want you with me, and I always get what I want.”

The pompous, elitist attitude was not endearing on the prince, no matter what the fluttering in Tao’s chest had said at the time. But it also hadn’t lasted. Not when the prince had gotten his first real taste of the death that accompanied war a year later, and then spent the entire night crying out his fears in Tao’s arms.

Tao was grateful for the glimpse at the boy under the hard shell, the one who still mourned the death of his mother every day, who was desperate not to be perceived as weak, and who above all else, was simply lonely.

Tao was grateful for Kris, even if he had stolen his first kiss. The kind of first kiss that would have been given freely. 

“…let our soldiers fight each other, and the ones with abilities that we usually hold back, they’ll fight too. But me and you, that’ll be the real show. Me and you. Unless you return Luhan to me. You now have less than a day.”

Kris’ words were harsh and uncompromising, proof of the desperation that he couldn’t show on his face.

The call ended seconds after the ultimatum had been given, and then Kris was on his feet. Tao could see the redness to his eyes, not evidence of tears, but instead of his lack of sleep and the stress attached to finding his cousin stolen away in the middle of the night.

“Your highness,” Tao said softly, moving to his side, ignoring the look of indignation that Kris gave him. “You should take a minute to rest. Eat something. You’re pale.”

“I’m fine,” Kris ground out. “If you’ll remember, I was busy resting while Luhan was being snatched away by that degenerate K solider.”

Tao let his hands rest down on the butt of his sword, the long weapon attached at his hip and more for show than anything else. Tao knew his ability was his first line of defense. The sword was to deter any would be attackers who didn’t know better. 

“I remember, your highness.”

With a sharp sigh Kris strode immediately from the room, Tao falling into step behind him. By the path taken, Tao could determine they were going back to Luhan’s rooms, probably to properly investigate his friends and the guards who’d been only quickly questioned before.

The halls of the palace weren’t exactly empty, but a vast majority of the people who both lived and worked there knew to keep their distance from the prince when he was in a foul mood, and the servants themselves stuck to the unseen passages. No one would dare cross paths with Kris at the moment, and everyone knew he could be indiscriminately mean when he was stressed. 

“I hope you aren’t going to yell at them,” Tao remarked, pushing open a huge set of double doors that blocked off the residential area of the palace from the more work oriented areas. 

Kris scoffed. “Yell at the people who were supposed to be protecting Luhan? Like Chen? Or what about Xiumin? He was supposed to be part of my guard, but I knew how close he and Luhan were, so when he asked to be assigned to Luhan, I indulged him. I let him go to Luhan with the belief that he’d actually be able to help in a time of crisis. He did go through the same training program you did, didn’t he?”

Tao gave a quick nod. Xiumin was several years older than him, and had graduated from a junior to an elite soldier just as Tao had been entering his own training. It was only through Luhan that they had met and become friends. And while Tao had never seen Xiumin in battle, he knew what the ice wielder was capable of. 

“Xiumin was up against a teleporter. There wasn’t much he could have done, your highness. And yelling at him, when he already feels the failure in his heart, isn’t going to help the situation. Xiumin would have done something if he could have. He would have saved Luhan if it was possible.”

“You’re sure?” Kris questioned, curiosity in his tone. His walking slowed until he was at a standstill. “You’d wager your life against those words?”

“I would,” Tao said without hesitation. “Xiumin loves Luhan very much.”

Kris’ shoulders slumped, and in a small voice, he asked Tao, “How could this have happened? In the palace? This is supposed to be the safest place in all of M.”

There was another thing that Tao would never tell Kris, even on pain of death. Kris was hopelessly devoted to his cousin, fond of him in ways that made it a weakness, and overly protective. But Tao was glad it was Luhan who’d been taken. It was a severe loss, both to Kris and M, but it was better Luhan than Kris.

It could have been Kris, and that terrified Tao.

It was a closely hidden secret that the king was on his deathbed, not long away from death, but even if he hadn’t been, Kris still would have been the bigger target. The king was the current, undisputed monarch, but his illness aside, he didn’t have many years left in his reign. Kris was young and full of potential, and poised to take the throne very shortly. Kris had no siblings, and aside from Luhan, there were only distant relatives left with enough royal blood to have a legitimate claim to the crown. 

If Kris had been taken or killed, the entire stability of M would have been pure chaos. They’d have to reveal the king’s health to the people, and Luhan would have moved up the succession line.

Tao desperately cared about Luhan, who’d snuck him sugary sweets on his bad days as a training junior, but Luhan was not Kris. Luhan had not been primed for the crown since birth. Neither did Tao think he had the fortitude to rule. 

So Tao was glad, even if he could see the way Kris’ heart was breaking over the abduction, that Luhan was the missing party.

“I promised his mother.”

“Who’s mother?” Tao questioned Kris. 

Kris clarified, “Luhan’s mother. When I was six and his parents were going to stay with relatives in the south. Before the war. They weren’t taking Luhan with them and I was just starting to understand that we were going to get married one day and what it meant to care for someone. So I promised her that I’d keep him safe and that I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.”

“But you were six,” Tao said.

“I still meant it,” Kris shrugged. “And Luhan was scared to be left behind. He wanted to go.”

They were completely alone in the hallway, and with some bravery, Tao let his fingers brush against the underside of Kris’ elbow. “I don’t actually know how his parents died.” Everyone’s parents died. That was nothing special. The adults went to war and the children were left behind. Tao’s own parents had been gone for years.

Kris turned more directly to Tao, invading his personal space. “There were prewar skirmishes happening everywhere. It wasn’t safe to travel, that’s why they didn’t take Luhan with them, but his mother’s sister was sick and she wanted to see her before she died. They ended up caught between two sides, neither which cared about casualties, at least not until M and K realized who they’d killed. In a lot of ways, their deaths helped spark the start of the war, because M blamed K and K blamed M. My father and Luhan’s father were cousins, and they were very close. I remember my father being very sad, and then very angry.”

Carefully, Tao put his hand on Kris’ shoulder, then tugged the older boy closer. “I know how much you care about Luhan. You love him very much.”

In fact, Tao had never seem someone so devoted to someone else. At least someone who wasn’t deeply in love with the other. Despite the upcoming wedding, there was nothing romantic between Kris and Luhan, only deep affection. But in a lot of ways Tao thought it was something more for Kris than affection. Luhan represented something to him. Something important that he couldn’t bear to lose.”

Kris left his forehead press against the hard shell of Tao’s armor at his shoulder. He wondered, “How will I tell Luhan’s mother I let this happen to her only child when I meet her in the afterlife?”

“Hey,” Tao chided gently, “you just said two things that are very wrong.”

“What?” Kris asked with a slightly muffled voice.

Tao took Kris by the hand and led him into a nearby, empty room. Once the door was safely shut behind them, he pressed Kris up against the wall and kissed him firmly. He let his cold fingers frame Kris’ face and he said, “You won’t be going to the afterlife for a very long time, so it’s pointless to even think about that.”

“The second?” Kris asked.

Tao graced him with a real smile. “Luhan is incredibly strong. You and I both know the true depth of his abilities. Most people think of him as this weak, pampered person who is valued for his connection to Mama. People think he’s important because of his visions. But you and I know the truth. We know what his true power is. He’s stronger than you and I, Kris, even if that’s treason to say. He could take us both out with a thought.”

Finally, thankfully, the smallest of grins spread on Kris’ face. “You’re right. Luhan’s abilities are … in a class all their own.”

“So really,” Tao said, “I feel sorry for the poor bastard who thought it was a good idea to take Luhan. You and I both know he’s not dead, but his captor might be at this point.”

Had Luhan killed before? Tao didn’t think so. Luhan wasn’t a soldier, he’d never seen any real combat, and he wasn’t one of the gifted who liked to use his abilities for sadistic pleasure. Luhan barely understood the war itself, or what happen on the battlefield. He was impressively strong, but considerably naïve. 

Kris frowned. “Wait. What are you saying?”

“I’m saying what you do next shouldn’t be a revenge mission. It should be a search and rescue.”

“Luhan could be alone in K territory,” Kris said, understanding Tao’s words. “He might be insanely powerful, but he’d be so incredibly outnumbered.”

Pursing his lips, Tao asked, “Would K know who Luhan is?” For the most part, Luhan didn’t leave the palace. He went on vacation occasionally and traveled between secure safe houses, but he was too precious to Kris to risk, and too often in ill health to go very far. When Kris addressed the nation of M, it was always without Luhan by his side, but when official photos were taken, they traditionally stood next to each other for the flashes. In fact most of M was very much aware of what he looked like, especially considering how much they favored him. But K was another story. There had to be people out there who knew exactly who he was and what his importance was. 

“The general populous of K probably wouldn’t,” Kris said, a little relief in his voice, “but the military would.”

“Then we have to find him first,” Tao pressed.

Kris leaned back more heavily on the door behind him, and when Tao questioned his change in posture, the prince said, “I’m worried about what Commander Suho said.”

“About them not being behind the kidnapping?”

“I believe him.”

It probably would be easy to pin accountability on K no matter what the truth was. And Tao didn’t think they were so morally above kidnapping a member of the royal family if the opportunity provided itself. But Tao understood what Kris was saying. Tao had been there for the entire transmission and he had seen the look on Suho’s face at the accusation. The man hadn’t been lying. 

Which created an even bigger concerned. If Suho and K hadn’t been the kidnappers, then who had?

For the most part, Tao appreciated his ability. It was unique and powerful, and gave him an edge in battle that could help him escape from death in a pinch. But even the ability to manipulate time had its limitations. He absolutely couldn’t flash forward to see the future consequences of his actions, and neither could he go back in time and redo mistakes he’d made. 

If only he could have gone back to the point of Luhan’s kidnapping. 

“Tao,” Kris said, his fingers brushing across Tao’s cheek. “If I asked you to do something incredibly stupid for me, would you?”

“You don’t need to use my feelings for you to get me to do things,” Tao said plainly.

He regreted his words right away, feeling Kris’ fingers fall away and the distance between them grow exponentially.

“I …” Tao didn’t know how to recover. 

Flatly, Kris said, “I need to go see my father right away. With any luck he’ll be awake and in a right state of mind.”

“Kris--”

“You,” Kris cut through his words, “will go to Xiumin again. Get his story one more time. Question Chen, then Lay, and anyone who was in the vicinity at the time. Then get yourself ready to leave.”

“I’m going somewhere?” Tao asked, nearly stumbling over himself to follow after Kris who was already out of the room and striding down the hallway. 

Was Kris sending him away?

“Go find Chen,” Kris ordered, all hint of playfulness gone. “Don’t make me order you.”

Tao’s legs brought him to a stop and he bowed immediately, breath rushing from his lungs as Kris walked on. “I understand, your highness.”

He shouldn’t have said what he did. He shouldn’t have accused Kris of using his feelings against him. Especially with Kris so high strung over Luhan.

“I thought I heard voices,” Chen relayed to Tao no less than fifteen minutes later. They were in the antechamber to Luhan’s private rooms, several soldiers actively turning the bedroom upside down looking for a hint of where Luhan might have disappeared to. Xiumin was supervising them with a terrible look on his face that said he blamed himself completely.

“You heard voices,” Tao deadpanned, “and you didn’t alert the guard right away?”

Chen gave a frustrated sigh. “I said I thought I heard voices, Tao. “I thought … sometimes, when Luhan has a vision from Mama, he talks. I thought he could be having another vision. That’s why I didn’t call the guard.”

“Then why didn’t you call for a medical team? Luhan’s visions leave him injured sometimes.”

“Am I a suspect?” Chen threw back angrily. Tao felt electricity crackle across his skin. “Because I sure feel like you’re interrogating me here. Look, Tao, I thought he might be having a vision. But I knew Lay was in there with him. Luhan loses complete control of his body when he has his visions, and sometimes he has seizures. They’re embarrassing for him, and if that’s what was happening, I didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable.”

“Sorry,” Tao mumbled. “I’m just trying to find out what I can. I have to find Luhan. For his highness.”

Chen crossed his arms across his chest. “You think I don’t feel guilty? I heard something, Tao. That bastard was in there with Luhan when I peeked in. I could have stopped him right there, if only I hadn’t let Luhan send me away. That was my one chance to help him. I let him down. I’m responsible.”

Tao gave him a hard pat to the arm. “There’s only one person responsible, and we’re going to find him. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s not Chen’s fault,” Xiumin called out, crossing over to them. “Tao, I want you to go to his highness and tell him it’s my fault. I had the kidnapper right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I take full responsibility, and I’ll accept my punishment. Whatever it is.”

Tao watched Xiumin swallow visibly, then rolled his eyes at the shorter man. “You’d already be in custody if the prince thought that you had something to do with Luhan’s disappearance, or were at fault some how.”

Xiumin’s eyes fell to the floor. “I thought I might … at least be a little suspicious.”

“Because of where you came from?” Tao questioned. It wasn’t a widespread knowledge that Xiumin hadn’t always been a citizen of M. Neither had he been living in a boarder town right before the start of the war. No, Xiumin had been a complete convert several years into the war via his parents. Xiumin had been K for some time, though he’d never fought against M, and there were plenty of people who would hold it against him if it was ever discovered.

Honestly, even Tao wasn’t sure why Xiumin and his parents had defected from K to join M, or why they’d been accepted, other than Xiumin’s ability and his pledge of allegiance to the king. 

If Tao had known that Xiumin had been K when they’d first met, he might have treated him differently, or not trusted him. 

“Huh?” Chen asked, looking between the two of them.

At the expression on Xiumin’s face, Tao told Chen, “Go find Lay for me, okay? I need to speak to him about Luhan’s health when he was abducted. I don’t think he was exactly up for gallivanting around Exo. We’re going to find him, but we need to know what kind of a state he’ll be in when we do. He may not be able to help us much if we get into a firefight of some kind.”

“Okay,” Chen said slowly, giving each of them an odd look.

“Xiumin,” Tao said right after he was gone. “You got the best look at this guy outside of Luhan. In fact you may have gotten the only look at him. Lay mentioned he was still asleep when all this was going on, and I think we can all attest that he really does sleep that heavily. You grew up in K. You’re familiar with its people. Tell me you saw something in this guy that can give us a clue where to go. We have to cut down the space somehow.”

Xiumin was almost a head under Tao, but when he straightened up at the thought of being useful, he seemed to grow before Tao’s eyes.

“I’ve never seen him before,” Xiumin said, “and I’ve studied the information we have on Commander Suho’s inner circle. This man’s face was not among them. So if he is working for Suho, he’s been deeply hidden in their command structure. And if he isn’t, then he’s just a shadow and we probably won’t find him.”

Tao’s eyes drifted to Luhan’s room, noting the overturned lounger next to the bed, the shattered antique clock that had rested on the bedside table and the evidence of Xiumin’s ice fury now melted on the carpet.

“I don’t care about finding the kidnapper. I care about finding Luhan. We can deal with anything else after that.”

A little timidly, Xiumin asked, “What will the king do if Luhan isn’t recovered?” 

Alive, Tao knew, Xiumin meant if Luhan wasn’t brought back alive.

“The king?” Tao said, breaking off after a second more. “This is falling to the prince, Xiumin. He’s taken responsibility or finding Luhan, and he’ll march us up to Commander Suho’s door if necessary, right into the heart of K’s capital if necessary. This time next week we could be dead or one nation again.” There was an equal chance of either, in Tao’s opinion. 

And if that happened, Tao didn’t think there’d be any going back for whichever side was the victor. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Tao believed Luhan when he said Mama was hurting, maybe even dying. Mama’s days were the same as the king’s, being not many in number. 

“I don’t think the prince will have to take us all the way to K’s capital.”

“Why not?” Tao asked.

The first look of hope sparked through Tao as Xiumin said, “I think I recognize the region of K that our kidnapper could be from. His skin color is very distinct to one region in particular, an agricultural sector, and I think I can narrow our chances of tracking him down if that’s where he is by any chance. Or maybe at the least we can find someone there that knows who our kidnapper is. There can’t be more than one teleporter in all of K.”

If this man who’d taken Luhan truly wasn’t working for or with Suho, he’d likely gone with Luhan somewhere that made him feel safe. A hometown area was a good place to start.

“Tao? There’s something else.”

“Hm?” 

There was fear in Xiumin’s eyes as he admitted, “I almost killed Luhan. I made a terrible mistake, acting before I could assess the situation properly and I could have killed him.”

Tao’s voice dropped low. “What did you say?”

Short fingers ran through Xiumin’s hair as he confessed, “When I woke all I could see was Luhan, with blood on his face, and this intruder, whoever he was. I reacted without thinking, with my abilities. But Luhan got in the way. I almost killed him.”

Tao hardly thought it was possible that Xiumin could give Luhan so much a paper cut on purpose. Xiumin was one of Luhan’s most dedicated protectors and certainly his best friend. More than that, Xiumin was the kind type not at all suited for the occupation that he held. Xiumin was no vicious by nature.

“How?” Tao requested, “Tell me that part again.”

“I was aiming for the intruder,” Xiumin said emphatically and with no room for doubt. “I know I should have tried to capture him, but he was a threat to Luhan and my intent was to kill. Luhan stepped in the way. I would have hit him if the intruder hadn’t teleported him away at the last second. He … he probably saved Luhan’s life from me.”

“Do not,” Tao said with narrowed eyes, “give any credit to that deviant.” After a second more, Tao wondered, “Why did Luhan get in the way? Are you sure you weren’t aiming at him by mistake?”

Xiumin shook his head fiercely. “I might have been half asleep still, but I still had complete control over my ability. I was aiming at the intruder, and Luhan jumped in front of him.”

“He probably had half a mind to bring him in alive,” Tao said, hands going to his hips in thought. “A teleporter from K, even a rogue one at that, would be better off alive than dead to us. Luhan would have known that value of the intruder. That’s probably what happened.”

“Maybe,” Xiumin mumbled, but he didn’t seem convinced even if he didn’t say otherwise.

“It’s okay,” Tao said finally, clasping Xiumin on the shoulder. “You did the best you could under the circumstances, and like I was telling his highness earlier, Luhan is incredibly strong. He’d be more than a match to anyone stupid enough to kidnap him.”

Absently, Xiumin told Tao, “Maybe if he was one hundred percent back to normal, but Tao, he wasn’t recovered from his earlier fit. He was still weak. And I’m worried about him being so far away from Lay now, if he has another one. He depends on Lay to see him through them these days.”

Tao straightened up. “I’m going to propose a rescue mission to his highness. We have to try and find Luhan no matter what.”

As it turned out, Tao didn’t have to propose anything to Kris. It was Kris who found Tao later that day, as the sun was beginning to set, and said, “I’ve spoken to my father about Luhan.”

Tao kept his head bowed as he asked, “How is his majesty?”

Tight lipped, Kris only said, “He was able to hold the conversation.” That probably meant Lay had been with him, straining himself to keep the king aware enough of the situation to actually speak to his son. It might have been better to just let him go to the afterlife before Luhan had been kidnapped, but now there wasn’t any option but for him to hang on. At least for Kris’ sake. Tao didn’t think Kris could handle the loss of his father and Luhan at the same time.

“What did he say?” Tao asked a bit brazenly.

They were moving to a secluded in a small, out of the way stretch of hall before Kris would risk saying, “He’s in agreement that Luhan has to be found and recovered, even if it means a full invasion of K.”

Tao didn’t doubt for one second that the king was fond of Luhan and wanted his safe return. But neither did he think that plans for invasion were based purely on the want for his return. Maybe Kris’ were, but that was what ultimately made Kris someone more governed by his emotions than his father.

As of late, the past few years in particular, public opinion had begun to shift away from the war. Sometimes late at night Tao would watch Kris fidget in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The prince would tell him about the public’s dissatisfaction over the war with K. Many of them, with the number growing daily, wanted to let go of K. They were tired or war, or maybe just dissatisfied that K hadn’t folded in ten years and didn’t look to be doing so any time soon.

Kris was far more likely to give into he people’s wishes than his father. And the king was far more likely to use whatever tools at his disposal to push his addenda of war.

And using Luhan … Luhan who was beloved by the people, was a brilliant strategy. Whether Suho had really been behind Luhan’s abduction, or not, the king could tell the people he had, and they’d rally behind the idea of recovering him. They’d embrace the final push towards invasion. The king would both recover Luhan, and win his war.

Tao just didn’t think Kris would ever realize this, not with his mind so preoccupied with finding Luhan. 

“But,” Kris continued, “a full military brigade won’t bring Luhan home safely to us. If anything, they’ll get him killed. What we need is a much smaller force, one that’s able to slip into K unbeknownst to her commander and not draw any attention.”

“Me,” Tao said immediately. “I could get in fairly easily, I’ve been to K several times before, and my ability makes it easy for me to avoid detection. I should go.”

“Tao,” Kris said gently, unlike how he usually spoke. “I can’t ask you to do this. I won’t ask you to do this.”

“Why not?” Tao asked, unsure. “You love Luhan. I’d be bringing you back someone you love, if I succeeded.”

“Because, idiot,” Kris said, clearly uncomfortable from his stance. “If you were caught, they’d kill you right away. They wouldn’t take you hostage.”

Tao shrugged. He knew that. 

“And,” Kris said with a squirm. “I love Luhan, but I’m in love with you. Idiot.”

Tao’s feet felt like they had weights in them. If someone tossed him in the ocean at that very moment, Tao was certain he’d sink right down. He knew the prince was fond of him, and they stole enough kisses to call it infatuation at times, but … love.

“Don’t just stand there like that,” Kris snapped. “And don’t ask me to say it again.”

“You love me,” Tao echoed. “You’re in love with me.” That sort of thing was something Tao had never expected. For Kris to be in love with him … for him to return the feelings that Tao had for him … 

Kris mustered up a show of strength. “I won’t ask you to put yourself on the line like that and risk not coming back to me. That’s something that--”

Tao cut him off with a fierce kiss, pouring himself into it desperately, clenching at Kris’ clothing. 

“I’ll go,” Tao said finally, when he was breathless and Kris looked dazed. “And try to have a little more confidence in me. I’ve never let you down before, have I?”

“No,” Kris admitted. “But this is different.”

“It’s not,” Tao scoffed. Then he said, “I’ve been talking to Xiumin. He thinks he got a clear enough look at the kidnapper to identify the region of K he’s from. There’s a chance he may have gone back there in a panic. Luhan may be there, and Xiumin is familiar with the area. I want to take him with me, if he agrees.”

“You could take Chen instead.”

“Chen?” Tao’s head tilted. “For some extra firepower?”

“You don’t know?” Kris gave a little laugh, his pinky catching Tao’s. “Chen wasn’t born in the north, and he certainly wasn’t here when K broke away from M. He’s like Xiumin.”

Chen? Tao could barely believe it. Chen had unwavering loyalty to M and he was beyond dedicated to helping protect Kris as the rightful heir to the throne. There was no way he was … from K. A post secession K.

“Are you sure?” Tao asked, feeling a little dumb.

“Of course I am. And my father vetted him personally before allowing him into our ranks, so don’t doubt him. Plenty of people have their reasons for wanting to change sides. All that matters is where his loyalty lies, and I don’t doubt that it’s here. You shouldn’t either.”

“But Chen,” Tao eased out. “I never would have believed it. His accent is flawless.”

There was a distinct difference between the dialects of M and K, and anyone trying to speak the one they weren’t originally familiar with, carried a heavy and distinguishable accent. Originally it had been a southern dialect and a northern one, but now the difference held a much deeper meaning. 

Kris pointed out, “It’s another reason you might be better taking him instead of Xiumin. Chen can pass for K in every way. That could be invaluable to you. I don’t know how well you can mime the K drawl.”

“No,” Tao decided, “Xiumin’s the only one who’s actually seen the kidnapper’s face. If he agrees to go, that’ll double our chances.”

“Okay,” Kris said quietly, the tips of his fingers brushing Tao’s. “You can use the invasion of M into K as decent cover to sneak across the K boarder. They’ll all be distracted and as long a you aren’t in uniform, I don’t think they’ll pay you any mind.”

Tao bumped his forehead against Kris’ playfully. “Stop worrying so much. I’ll find Luhan and bring him back to you. We already decided he’s giving his kidnapper hell, right?”

Slowly Kris’ arms came up around Tao and he was hugging the younger man tightly. Tao reveled in the feeling as Kris said, “I believe in you. But I can’t help being worried. Worried about the things happening here, too.”

“What kinds of things?” Tao asked suspiciously. “Your father’s health?”

“No,” Kris mumbled against the skin at Tao’s neck. “I told Suho that I ordered the attack on the neutral area because I had to look confident. I had to seem powerful. But I didn’t, Tao. My father’s advisory council did. They didn’t consult me first. They took immediate control of our army and issued the order themselves.”

“Can they do that?” Tao asked, pulling Kris back. 

“Yes,” came the shaky reply. “My father is still king, so I have no power, but with him incapacitated most of the time, they make the decisions. I’m just … here for appearance’s sake until I’m king. Tao, they think they can use me as nothing but a figurehead. I know it. I see it in their eyes every time we talk, and I’m afraid they’re going to try and use Luhan to control me. That’s why you have to get to him first and bring him back before my father dies. They can’t be allowed to usurp power from me.”

There was real fear in Kris’ eyes, and for all his brash behavior and attitude, Tao knew he cared about his people deeply. 

“I’ll find Luhan,” Tao swore, “and I will bring him back before your father dies. Then you’ll marry him and you’ll be safe from their machinations.” 

Kris pressed a chaste kiss to Tao’s mouth. “I seriously doubt I’ll ever be free of them, but this is the most we can do now. You won’t be the only one from M out there looking for him, either. I know they’ve already dispatched a few someones covertly. If they get to Luhan before I’m king, we’ll be in for a heap of trouble. What the council did to the neutral area will only be the beginning.”

Tao left that night, just after sunset, a determined Xiumin with him.

“How long do you think we have?” Xiumin asked, M’s royal palace growing more distant by the minute. It was a long journey to even reach K’s boarder, and it would be longer still to reach the part of K that Xiumin was certain the kidnapper originated from.

“Hard to tell,” Tao answered honestly. 

By morning K and M would be slaughtering each other in a no hold’s bar kind of method, and Exo would be further ripped apart by their two sides. It was also impossible to tell how long the king’s health would hold, even with Lay’s full power doing its best to sustain him. And there was the chance they were headed completely in the wrong direction to find Luhan. For all Tao knew, he was already lost to them, or not where they thought he could be. 

It all seemed hopeless when he thought about it.

“Come on,” Tao said, gesturing for Xiumin to drive a bit faster. They’d have to ditch their vehicle if anyone spotted them, but for now they could make time with it. “More people are depending on us than we can imagine.”

Tao had made a promise, maybe an unfair one at that, to Kris that he would bring Luhan home to them. Tao didn’t have a habit of breaking his promises, and he didn’t intend to start with the most important one he’d ever made. Not with so much on the line.


	4. Sehun

Sehun had been standing in line for several hours, since daybreak, when the announcement came over the PA system. Standing in line wasn’t so bad in Sehun’s opinion, if it meant he got to eat for a few more days, but standing in line for nothing, in the cold of the morning, was something else.

“Go home!” one of the soldiers shouted, the grip on his weapon tight and anxious. Sehun would have been worried too, if he were the man. There were several hundred people in line, each more desperate than the next, and most of them with more than one mouth to feed. A riot was possible. A riot was probably inevitable.

That was why Sehun cut out of line and started the long walk back to his tiny home.

It was a five minute journey that gave him more than enough time to think about what he’d do for the rest of the day. It was always a hard choice choosing between the line for food and the line for work. But he was trying to be more charitable these days, more humanitarian, if that could be said. And there’d been a lot of kids poking their noses around him lately, hungry for food and desperate for attention.

Sehun was almost grown now and able to deal with an empty stomach. The kids were a different story. The food he got from the ration depot could feed any of the half dozen children who liked to flock around him like sheep. 

But it was definitely too late to try and scrounge up some work. No, the most he could do was check around town a little later for handy work that needed to be done, and hope that his exceptionally handsome face won him something. It had to be good for something.

“Sehun! Sehun!”

A sea of tiny voices shouted over the bustle of the town’s epicenter and Sehun turned instinctively for the children he knew would be racing towards him.

“No food today,” he reported to the first of them, trying to keep his face unreadable. They didn’t need to know how dire the situation was. It’d been three times now in that very week alone that there’d been no food rations from the military, and without a harvest crop as well, they were going to start to starve very quickly.

Maybe that was the military’s plan after all. To starve out the weak citizens and force the older, stronger ones to join up with their cause.

“Oh,” one of the children said, but not looking too beat down about it. Sehun knew that one in particular had an older brother in the military. There’d be food for him, at least. That was at least one of the decent perks to having a family serve in Commander Suho’s forces. “Not that, Sehun! Did you hear about what happened yesterday?”

“No,” Sehun said a little gruffly, trying to push past the circle they’d formed around him. “And I don’t care.”

The children ignored him like they usually did, prattling to each other until one said particularly high, “The neutral area is gone!”

Sehun froze. The neutral area was gone? “What do you mean?” Sehun demanded, spinning back towards the one that had spoken. “What about the neutral area?”

The child looked smug, getting to be the one to tell Sehun the news. It was still baffling to Sehun why they hung onto him so tightly, especially since he didn’t treat them particularly well. 

“M totally burned it to the ground!” the child relayed, taking animatedly with his hands and making sound effects with his mouth. “There was no warning and it’s completely gone. My mom says M is coming here, next.”

Sehun rolled his eyes. “That’s stupid. Even M wouldn’t launch a full scale invasion on K this late into the year.” 

But the news about the neutral area … that was stunning.

Sehun had lived in the neutral area up until recently. He’d shared a small home with half a dozen other kids, all of them fed and cared for by an elderly woman who told them stories of her childhood at night and rubbed their bellies when they were sick. It wasn’t that Sehun had ever felt completely safe in the neural area, but he’d found stability in the community. He’d had purpose there, and a place and maybe even a family. 

Then he’d aged out. 

He’d become a man and he hadn’t been allowed to stay.

Not that any of that mattered, apparently. The neutral area was … gone. But that didn’t make any sense. It was neutral. It was filled with the young and the elderly. It had no association to either K or M. More than that, it had M and K citizens within it. What would M possibly have to gain from that sort of attack? It was absurd.

“Sehun?”

Had there been any survivors? It seemed foolhardy to think that someone could have survived a full attack from M, but it was a hope he couldn’t help. There were a lot of people in the neutral area that Sehun cared about. Little kids that he’d become attached to.

“What?”

“Are we going to die, too?”

That startled Sehun into placing a hand down on top of the child’s messy hair. He knelt down a second later and said, “We’re much further into K. The neutral area was right between K and M. It’s safer here. You don’t have to worry about being killed.” At least not until he was old enough, and stupid enough to join up with Suho.

“But my mom said--”

“Trust me,” Sehun said, standing with a small groan. “We’re not going to die. We’re too stubborn to die. Now all of you, go play.”

There was sudden shouting between the children, all of them arguing at once about what kind of game they’d play. It was the kind of thing that seemed like chaos, but gave Sehun an odd sense of calm to watch.

Together the children began to scatter off, but one of them remained, a small girl that Sehun couldn’t ever remember really talking to.

“I don’t have any food today,” Sehun repeated, in case she hadn’t heard him earlier. “But one of your little friends might. Go bother them.”

She shook her head, hands dirty as she pointed at him. “My dad says you used to live in the neutral area.”

“So?” Sehun shrugged. “Plenty of people here came from the natural area.”

It was surprising a second later when her hand slipped into his and she gave him a strong tug. “You have to come with me.”

“Hey, wait!” Sehun found his feet moving a second later, the child pulling him along effortlessly, navigating the small alleyways and streets with familiar ease. “Where are we going?”

They were obviously going to her home, which was a one story, dilapidated looking building. Sehun had aged out of the neutral area more than a year ago, but he never got over the difference of living conditions. Things in the neutral area hadn’t been anything like M probably was, but the homes has been sturdy and kept the draft out. Here, deeper into K, poverty was running everything into the ground, including the buildings.

The little girl called out, pushing open a door without knocking, “Dad! I’m here. I’ve got him.”

The man that met Sehun in the doorway was taller, but also younger than expected. He was prime age for Suho’s forces, and even if he didn’t want to go, it was a surprise that he hadn’t. Most people joined up with Suho and took an enlistment out of necessity, especially those with children who needed to be fed. 

“You’re Oh Sehung?” the man asked, holding his hand out for Sehun.

“I am.” Sehun gave a look around. “Mind telling me why I’m here?”

The man gave a firm nod and directed Sehun to follow him, stating, “All the children say you’re fresh from the neutral area. Around a year, right? And you had contact with a lot of M citizens there, didn’t you?”

Sehun’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like where the man was going with his words. “I lived with M citizens. That’s true. But that sort of thing is allowed in the neutral area.” Some of his closest friends had been M citizens, not that they would be friends now. If they weren’t dead now, of course. 

With a rub to the back of his head, the man admitted, “I’m completely ignorant to the M dialect. Speaking it, I mean.”

“You mean accent?”

“No.” The man shook his head. “The dialect.”

Sehun slowed behind the man, telling him, “Are you sure you understand the difference between M’s accent and their dialect?”

It wasn’t that he was trying to call the man out on anything. But not everyone understood that M’s citizens held their own dialect of the standard language M and K shared. It was exceedingly rare to hear anyone from M speaking it in mixed company, like something they coveted away from the general populous, but it existed. Only the very wealthiest of M’s people, and the best educated were fluent in it. The rest of them spoke standard, with a heavy M accent.

“Oh,” the man laughed. “I know the difference. Back before the war, when I was just a boy, I did a lot of traveling with my father. He helped supply the north with a lot of things only found here in the south. I’ve heard the M dialect spoken before. I know what it sounds like, I just can’t speak it myself.”

Why were they even talking about this?

“What makes you think I know more than you?”

The man pushed open one of the few doors in the home and Sehun was suddenly looking at a lithe figure stretched out on a bed in a dark room. 

“Here,” the man said, bringing the lights on. “Come in.”

His mouth suddenly dry as he got a good look at he person on the bed. Sehun asked, “Who is this?”

Whoever the person was, he was the most gorgeous man Sehun had ever seen in his life. His age was impossible to pin down, but his features were gentle and maybe even adorable, with a small nose, perfect lips and smooth skin. There was something devastatingly beautiful about him, and Sehun wanted to touch him so badly just to make sure he was real.

Without warning the boy shifted and muttered something clear in his sleep.

“See?” the man questioned Sehun. “I know M’s dialect when I hear it. I just can’t make out what he’s saying.”

Almost demanding, Sehun asked, “Who is he? Where did he come from?”

“My girl found him,” the man relayed, “wandering the streets just before sunset. She said he seemed confused, maybe disoriented. There was blood on him, too. When he passed out, she came and got me. I think … he might be from M.”

Sehun sat on the edge of the bed and took the boy’s wrist in his grip, feeling for his pulse. It was a steady thump under Sehun’s fingers and the boy’s breathing was evenly paced. He seemed okay. 

“Wake him up,” Sehun said, reaching up to press the back of his hand against the boy’s forehead. “He doesn’t have a fever and he seems to be okay.”

“Can’t,” the man said simply. “I’ve tried everything. And if the cold water from us cleaning the blood off his face didn’t wait him, I don’t know what will.”

Again, the boy mumbled something and Sehun leaned close. He’d just barely missed what was said, but he could smell the disctinct scent coming from the boy’s skin. Almost flowery, but not. Maybe potpourri. Sehun decided, also the kinds of oils people used to burn in the neutral area that smelled like a hundred different things and the women seemed to love. And cedar.

“I may have heard a little of M’s dialect when I lived in the neural area,” Sehun confessed, unable to help his trembling fingers brushing against the boy’s sweeping facial structure. “M and K split aid to the neutral area pretty unfairly. M never came more than twice a year, but when they did, they sent a government official. He spoke the dialect whenever he talked to anyone back in M. He also brought his son with him most times, and we’d get to play with him. I picked a few things up from him.”

It was interesting now that Sehun thought about it. When he’d lived in the neutral area he’d been friends with people from M and K. He’d played with the boy of a wealthy, almost aristocratic family of M, and also the dirt poor orphans he shared a room with. But he hadn’t discriminated between them, and it had only been when he’d aged out and taken his place as a full citizen that he’d started to draw the distinction between M and K.

“Can you tell me what he’s saying?”

“You willing to pay?” Sehun asked frankly. 

The man nodded. “I’ll pay a fair price.”

As Sehun waited for more mumbling, he asked the man, “What are you planning to do with him?”

There was absolutely denying that this person was a M citizen. Sehun could have spotted it a mile away. His skin was too soft, and unblemished to be anything other than a very well off M citizen. His hands were without calluses, indicating he’d never done any real manual labor, and he was pale, like he didn’t see enough sun or need to be outdoors much. The sleeping boy practically reeked of wealth.

How was it possible that someone like him had ended up in K?

“I figure,” the man said honestly, “he’ll fetch a good price to the right clientele. Maybe I’ll sell him back to M, or send him to K. I figure the Commander will pay top dollar for someone like this kid.”

Sehun blocked the man’s words out as soon as the boy began speaking. He closed his eyes in concentration as he listened.

“Well?” the man asked anxiously.

Only concentrating on the boy’s voice and blocking everything else, Sehun was aware of how soft and airy it was. There was hidden strength behind his tone, but it was the kind of tone that would probably sound friendly when he was awake and aware. 

“He’s asking for someone,” Sehun said, his hand unconsciously finding the boy’s. “And he’s upset about something. Worried, maybe.”

Sehun felt pressure on his hand and thought for a second the boy was waking, but it was only him tossing a bit in the bed, features pinched.

“His cousin,” Sehun decided. “He’s asking either for his cousin, or asking his cousin about something.”

Sehun could practically see the greed in the man’s eyes, and he was suddenly very afraid for the boy on the bed. 

“A name,” the man urged. “I need a name.”

Sehun wanted scoff. The man only wanted a name so he knew where to send the random note to.

Then he heard it clearly. He heard it clearer than anything else.

The boy’s lips parted and he sighed out, “Kris.”

Sehun jarred back suddenly, eyes wide and breath hitching. He had grown up in the natural area, but he was not completely ignorant to M’s practices. Names among the royal family were sacred. It was highly illegal for other babies to be named the same as the royal family. No one would have dared name their child after the prince. Not in M, and not even in K.

And that meant …. this boy’s cousin was …

“What is it?”

Sehun looked hard at the boy. Sehun didn’t know much about the actual members of the royal family, other than their numbers had dwindled significantly over the past few years. He didn’t know most of them by name and neither did he care. But if this was the prince’s cousin … if this was Luhan …

The boy’s eyes cracked open.

“Woah,” Sehun said, leaning over him to block the sight of the other man. “It’s okay. You’re fine.”

“Oh,” Luhan eased out, large eyes blinking sleepily. “Sehun. You’re here.”

The man came to the edge of the bed, asking suspiciously, “How does he know your name?”

Luhan gave him a gentle smile as Sehun said, “I have no idea.” Then Luhan was squeezing his hand, skin so soft against Sehun’s own work battered hands, and Sehun was doubtful things were going to turn out well.

“How do you know my name?” Sehun asked, one knee coming up on the bed to give himself better leverage. 

Luhan’s eyes were a bright chocolate color, and even with the poor light of the room they seemed to sparkle. This, Sehun realized, was what it was like to be completely love struck. 

Voice a little stronger, Luhan said, “I saw you in my dreams many years ago. The circumstances of our meeting was confusing, but I always knew we would meet.” Luhan spoke in standard, the M dialect from his sleep mumbling gone. However his accent was still heavy, forcing Sehun to pay extra attention to his words.

“What?” Sehun asked, a little confused. 

Once more, the man in the room, the one that Sehun had almost completely forgotten about, demanded to know, “What is going on? How does he know your name?”

“Up you go,” Sehun told Luhan, helping him sit up. “Dizzy?”

Luhan nodded slightly. “It will pass. Give me a minute.”

Sehun took a deep breath. He might have stayed in bed that morning if he’d known this was where the day was going to go.

“I know him,” Sehun told the man, getting to his feet. “He’s my responsibility. And I’ll be taking him, now.”

“Unlikely,” the man snorted. “I hope you don’t think I’m a fool.”

This was the kind of man, Sehun knew, who would try to use Luhan to benefit himself. He’d sell Luhan to the highest bidder and Luhan would likely never see his home again. If Sehun didn’t do something, Luhan would be lost to him, and there was some urging in Sehun to prevent that. He had to know more about Luhan, starting with how Luhan had known his name and that they were certain to meet.

“I suggest you rethink trying to stop me from taking him from here,” Sehun said calmly, staring the man down.

“I’ll take my chances, boy.”

With an unbalanced and less than graceful stand, Luhan got to his feet next to Sehun. 

“I’ll say it again, if you need to hear it,” Sehun ground out. 

He could feel the pressure building under his skin. In a few seconds his ability was going to burst out and people were going to get hurt. At the very least Sehun could be thankful the man’s daughter had long since fled the room.

The man took a threatening step forward and wind slammed through the room, overturning the nearby nightstand right away and rattling the already frail walls. The man screamed and tumbled backwards, pinned to the wall as Sehun’s power raged.

“Sehun.” Luhan’s hand came to rest on his forearm, catching him off guard. “I need you to listen to me.”

The wind howled like and animal, whipping about almost uncontrollably.

“Sehun.”

The scary thing was, Sehun could hear him perfectly. It should have been impossible to hear over the noise of the wind, or the screaming of the man, but Luhan’s voice was unwaveringly clear.

“Have you mastered your ability yet?”

Sehun shook his head honestly. He’d been trying, especially as of late, but sometimes he scared himself with what he could. 

Luhan said, “Close your eyes. Don’t doubt me. Just do as I say.”

Luhan was the kind to demand authority. His voice was gentle, but there was something about it that compelled Sehun to listen to him.

“Okay,” he said, closing his eyes, his own wind ability battering him around so much that he could barely keep his feet under him. Luhan was an anchor in many ways, lending him strength to stay upright.

“We’re going to find your core,” Luhan said with an encouraging squeeze to his arm. “The trick to controlling yourself and your abilities is to find your core. Now, I want you to think about to something that matters to you. Maybe it’s a person, or a possession. I want you to think of something that you would fight to protect.”

Voice shaking with shame, Sehun said, “I don’t have anything.” It was the truth. There was no one in his life he loved, and he owned very few things. He got up in the morning because it was what he was supposed to do, not because he had a reason to. How pathetic did that make him?

Laughingly, but without malice, Luhan told him, “I hope you don’t think you’re the first to have this dilemma. Its okay, Sehun. You’re going to picture instead something you desperately want. Everyone wants things, and desire is a very powerful emotion. So think about what you want most. Power? Wealth? Love?”

Love.

At the mere mention he felt his wind shift. Suddenly it wasn’t battering him, it was pushing at him almost playfully, wrapping around him and enveloping him. It was part of him, and the more he thought about the emotion and the idea of having someone to love, the easier the wind became to control.

“Now call it back in,” Luhan coached. “That wind doesn’t have a mind of its own. It’s a part of you. You control it. Take control.”

The second he managed it, the moment the wind that he spent so much of his life being afraid of was under control, Sehun actually felt lighter. The proverbial weight off his shoulders was gone and he was swept up in relief.

Luhan staggered back to sit on the bed, breathing hard. “There you go. I knew you could do it.”

Sehun spun around towards him. “Are you okay? How did you know how to do that? You look …”

“I’m okay,” Luhan waved him off, touching his fingers under his nose. “See?” He held up clean fingers. “I’ll be just fine.”

You don’t look fine,” Sehun said, but then the man across the room was groaning and panic was beginning to set in. “Come on,” he said, hauling Luhan up to his feet. “We have to go.”

As Sehun began dragging him towards the door, Luhan asked, “Can you tell me where I am?”

Sehun gave pause to the way Luhan was dressed. He was obviously in his night clothes, a long, flowing night shirt embroidered with delicate lace falling past his knees, and a pair of silken feeling pants accompanying it. They weren’t travel clothes, but worse than that, they were made of the finest material Sehun had ever seen. It was probably a miracle that Luhan hadn’t been snatched by someone worse.

Speaking of … “Don’t even think about following us,” Sehun snapped at the dazed man on the floor. “And if you tell anyone about what just happened here, I’ll bring your whole house down on you.” It was an empty threat, but Sehun was sure the man believed him.

“Sehun?” Luhan asked as they emerged onto the street. The sun was even higher in the morning sky now, and the streets were only getting more populated. 

“Stick close to me,” Sehun warned. “Don’t make eye contact with anyone and don’t say anything to anyone either. We have to get to my place unnoticed.”

Luhan blinked in wonderment around him, watching the people around him with unbridled fascination. “Are we in danger here?”

“Yeah,” Sehun sighed out. “We are.”

As they made their way through the streets, Sehun did his best not to become aggravated by Luhan. He was worse than a child, stopping to look at the things around him, wanting to ask questions about everything he saw, and slowing them down significantly.

“Haven’t you ever seen a marketplace?” Sehun snapped as his house came into view.

“Not in K,” Luhan answered honestly. “Are they all this big?”

“Big?” Sehun echoed. The town’s market was shrinking every day, and was now the smallest it had ever been. He turned just in time to see Luhan reaching for a nearby display manned by a gruff looking man, and barely managed to pull him out of the way in time.

“I’m starting to think you’re nothing but trouble,” Sehun mumbled, ignoring the way Luhan shot him a bright, unapologetic smile.

“I’m just curious,” Luhan defended. “Very curious.”

“Okay,” Sehun said, shuffling Luhan through his front door a few minutes later, relieved to find the house was empty. “I just saved you from someone who would have sold you off at the highest price, so I want to know a few things. How do you know my name? How did you get here? Am I going to be accused of treason for bringing you here?”

Luhan turned slowly in the small house that Sehun called home. Part of Sehun wanted to feel embarrassed, compared to what he knew Luhan was likely used to, but he refused the emotion on principle alone.

“This is your house?”

“Mine,” Sehun agreed, crossing his arms defensively. “What’s with that look on your face? You think I don’t know who you are and what you live in?”

Luhan gave him a peculiar look. “I stay in the palace, Sehun. I don’t own it. It isn’t mine. Even if I were the king’s consort, it still wouldn’t be mine. But this … it’s all yours. That’s something.”

The way Luhan spoke was something magical.

Sehun couldn’t offer Luhan more than a glass of water, but the other man didn’t ask for more, and seemed content enough to simply have the drink.

“You knew my name before I gave it to you,” Sehun broached. “And you said it like we were old friends, meeting again for the first time in years. How? Why?”

Luhan’s index finer circled the rim of the glass. “You have your ability, Sehun, and I have mine. Mama and I are connected. Sometimes I have visions, the precognitive kind, about what will happen and what might happen. It’s hard to distinguish them at times. But I also have dreams, the kind where I meet people I don’t know and forge friendships with them before I even wake. On occasion, I meet them in real life. You’re the third I’ve met outside of my dreams. I know you quite well, even if you don’t know me.”

“That,” Sehun said, taking a seat across from him, “is really weird.”

“I get used to it. I’ve had time to.”

Sehun left his own glass of water untouched in front of him, peering at Luhan with the full might of his concentration. “Your name is Luhan, right? You are M’s prince’s cousin?”

Without any reluctance, Luhan nodded, likely divulging the most dangerous information about himself that he had. Then again, he’d said that he knew Sehun well from his dreams. As odd as it was, Luhan probably trusted him.

“Kris is my cousin,” Luhan said fondly. 

“What are you doing here? You’re pretty far into K’s territory and you’re in serious danger being here.”

It was then that Sehun had his first look at a sad Luhan. It didn’t suit him at all, and the expression on his face even made Sehun regretful.

“I …” Luhan started, then took a long drink from his water. Sehun could tell he was fighting to find just the right words.

“Are you here with someone?” Sehun prompted. “You have to know that it’s dangerous for you to be here. You’re M royalty, and you’ll find no love here from K’s citizens. A lot of them will try to hurt you, just to spite M and your cousin.”

“There was an accident,” Luhan told him, his wide eyes making him seem so young. Luhan was older than him, though. Sehun knew very little about him, but he knew Luhan was older. He just didn’t seem it, especially with the look on his face. “I was with someone and there was an accident.”

“What kind of accident?”

A little coyly, Luhan said, “The kind that separates two people who care for each other. He ended up some where else, and I woke up alone. I don’t know where he went, or how to find him, but I will try. I won’t go home until I’m sure he’s safe.”

“You can’t stay here,” Sehun admonished with a slack jaw. “I’m being nice to you because I don’t care where you’re from, or what kind of life you live. But you won’t find a lot of people like me. You don’t know your way around this country, you sound like the foreigner you are, you don’t have any money or anything to barter with, and you will eventually come across someone who recognizes your face. You’ll be hauled straight to Commander Suho and who knows what he’ll do to you.”

Luhan paled a bit. “Is he … a terrible person?”

“He’s the Commander,” Suho said simply. “I don’t think it matters if he’s a terrible person or not. He has to put the country first, and that’ll mean stringing you up to get a rise out of your cousin. It’ll be the kind of advantage he can’t afford to pass up.”

“I see,” Luhan said softly. 

“Especially in light of what your cousin just did.”

“Hm?”

Sehun did not want to be the one to tell him, but there was no avoiding it. Trying to not meet Luhan’s eyes, willing himself not to be swayed by his beautiful face, Sehun said, “Your cousin leveled the neural area. No survivors. No one knew why at the time, and I think they still don’t know why, but I’d guess it has to do with your accident. Whatever that was.”

Luhan pressed a hand to his temple and seemed to sway for a second, almost whining out, “Oh, no. Kris probably thinks the worst. I disappeared in the middle of the night, and there was a fight. Sehun, I have to contact him. I have to let him know I’m okay. I have to get him to stop this.”

With a thought Sehun got to his feet and made the short trip to one of only two bedrooms in the house, coming back with a small, outdated communications pad. “I only have this,” he told Luhan, holding it up for display. “I won it about half a year ago in a bet. It’s old, practically ancient, and it works just fine for me here, but it won’t make a call all the way to M. The software inside couldn’t even begin to get past the security protocols your country has in place, and you won’t find anything else around here much more advanced. Not unless you’re in the military.”

Luhan looked from the pad to Sehun. “You aren’t in the military?”

“Noticed a distinct lack of boys around here?” Sehun asked with a laugh. “A lot of them go join, and then a lot of them get taken out by one of your specials. I’m not stupid. I don’t have much to live for, but I don’t have anything worth dying for, either.”

“What about independence?” Luhan questioned, tugging the pad away from Sehun to look it over himself. “Isn’t that what K is fighting for? For the right to be autonomous? And have agency?”

“Do you actually know anything about the war at all?” Sehun asked. “Or are you just repeating back the things you’ve heard?”

Luhan looked sour. “I can see it’s going to take a while for us to warm up to each other. And for your information I listen very carefully to the things that I hear around me, and then I make my own decisions. But it isn’t that there’s a lot for me to actually hear. People in the palace are suspiciously tight lipped around me, and Kris won’t talk to me about the war. He says I shouldn’t have to worry about it.”

Sehun ran a hand through his hair. “I get that you’ve been sheltered, but this is ridiculous.”

Luhan seemed to ignore his words as he turned the glowing pad over. “You’re right about this being severely out of date. But you know, it’s only the software that’s bad. It looks like it still has enough processing power. We just need to boost the signal.”

With his arms held out wide, Sehun declared, “Look around you. Most people are a few days away from starving to death. Where do you think you’re going to find a place within a few day’s travel that can even consider being able to do that. And if you did, how would you pay them? This isn’t M’s capital. This isn’t even K’s capital. There’s nothing but dust and poverty for miles.”

“I--” Luhan opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden, sharp beeping noise from the pad cut him off. “There’s an incoming message.”

“Probably just from one of my friends,” Sehun waved off.

“It’s on the emergency broadcast channel.”

Sehun snatched the pad back and with a few strokes across the screen he was looking at Commander Suho’s stern face.

There were propaganda posters plastered all around town, and plenty of news feed videos that played all during the day if anyone wanted to watch them. But Sehun had never gone out of his way to watch anything by Suho. This, however, this was different. He couldn’t switch channels on his pad, it was completely locked to the Commander’s face. Sehun wasn’t even sure he could adjust the volume. 

The Commander’s words were concise and without emotion, urging the citizens of K to remain strong and diligent, and for all able bodied men and women to report to their nearest recruitment station.

“Forced enlistment?” Sehun questioned, the pad finally unlocking from the station as the transmission ended. He scrolled quickly through the news headlines, feeling his feet threaten to slide out form under him as there were several unconfirmed, but frantic eye witness reports of M troops pressing further into K.

They were already at war. The only thing worse than war was a full fledged invasion, but Sehun didn’t think even M had the resources or manpower to do that.

“This is crazy,” he breathed out, scrolling from one news headline to the next. “Luhan, I think your cousin has completely lost it.”

A heavy thump startled Sehun and he looked up, eyes searching for the bright eyed boy who desperately needed help to get home.

“Luhan?”

It took him a half second more to locate Luhan, the shorter boy having collapsed into the space between the chair he’d been seated on and the table that his glass of water had been perched atop. 

“Luhan!”

Sehun dropped to his side and tried shaking Luhan, but he’d never seen anything like what he was witnessing. This wasn’t a fit or seizure, there was no shaking, but neither was Luhan asleep or unconscious. Instead he was laying perfectly still, his legs bent underneath him, his eyes wide open but unblinking.

And the power … when Sehun touched him, bare skin to bare skin, he could feel it pulsing. It was something he’d never felt before, terrible in its might, but also comforting in a way that wasn’t easy to explain. 

“Luhan!” Sehun shook him again. “Luhan, please!”

What was he supposed to do? What could he do?

He was saved from his frantic thoughts by Luhan who gave a terrible gasp, his back arching up before he was blinking wildly. Sehun pulled him fully into a hug and Luhan sagged in it.

“Luhan?” Sehun ventured gingerly. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Luhan’s fingers were terribly white as they clutched at Sehun’s arm, using him for support. “Sehun,” he gasped out, breathing hard and shaking. 

“Just breathe,” Sehun coached, tugging Luhan closer, not sure how to comfort him. Sehun had always been terrible at comfort, and much better at everything else. “You’re going to be okay.”

“No,” Luhan said with a shudder. “I’m too far from Mama. She needs to tell me something. She needs me, Sehun. I have to get closer. I have to go now.”

“You can’t go anywhere!” Sehun snapped at him, putting enough pressure on Luhan’s shoulders to keep him in place as he tried to get up. “You just had … well, I don’t know what you just had, but it wasn’t good, it really scared me, and you are obviously not well.”

Angrily Luhan bit out, “This is bigger than me. I swear you sound just like Kai. Sehun, I have to be closer to Mama. She’s too weak to communicate with me with so much distance between us. It’s like being in a dampening field. So I’m going to her now, because she needs to tell me something that absolutely can’t wait. Either help me up, and stop hovering, or get out of my way.”

Sehun flinched back, but then stood, offering a hand down to Luhan. “You’re nothing but trouble, you know that?”

Luhan let Sehun pull him up to his feet. “True, but trust me, Sehun. We’re going to have a great friendship.”

“I feel like you’re just making that up.”

“I’m not,” Luhan insisted. “Now, how can we get out of here? If you have any money at all, or anything to trade with, I’ll see to it that you’re reimbursed. But I have to get to Mama’s life tree, and I have to do it quickly. Can you please help me in any way?”

“I know a guy,” Sehun begrudgingly admitted. “He might be able to get us a vehicle, but things are going to dicey with the invasion.”

Luhan looked lost. “What invasion?”

Sehun grit his teeth. “You are not going to like what I have to tell you, because I’m pretty sure your cousin has gone completely loony.”

Luhan matched his frown. “Tell me on the way.”


	5. Chanyeol

Contrary to what Baekhyun seemed to think, Chanyeol was not sulking. 

But if he were sulking, it would have been totally justifiable in his opinion, because he was a solider. He was a fully commissioned officer in Commander Suho’s elite first response unit. He was powerful, experienced, and certainly not in need to protection, exiled to a distant military base where he could be easily hidden within the current personnel. 

With his feet dangling freely over the military base’s highest building, giving Chanyeol a vantage point of the men and women scurrying around both in and out of formation, he pressed a hand to the device hooked around his ear and relayed to Baekhyun, “I’m sorry, I missed the part where I suddenly reverted to being a child who needs people to look out for him.”

He could practically see Baekhyun rolling his eyes on the other side of the country. It was the furthest they’d ever been apart, mostly because Baekhyun stuck to Suho like glue, and Chanyeol was a little afraid to let Baekhyun out of his sight as the war progressed. Suho had always seemed more than wiling to indulge Chanyeol’s nervousness, up until now, of course.

“Stop acting like a baby and you might stop getting treated like one,” Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol swung his feet out, feeling the fire itch under his skin to be let out. “Maybe I’m acting like one because I’m being treated like one.”

And he still didn’t understand the logic in him being sent away, closer to the M boarder, and away from Suho and Baekhyun. If he was a target, being moved closer to the enemy didn’t make much sense to him, no matter how Suho explained it with a carefully held expression. Neither did Chanyeol really think that a few thousand soldiers, no matter how well trained they were, were going to be able to protect him if even a few guys from M showed up with abilities. Not that Chanyeol would let them.

Maybe Suho didn’t want him at the capital, bringing attention there. Maybe this was more about keeping others safe, and less about protecting him.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun sighed out, his voice tense over the line. “Suho is trying to protect you, not treat you like a child. People with two abilities, especially the ones who’s names are floating around M channels, are going to be high priority targets. Suho cares a lot for you, and everyone knows how close you are. The expectation is that he’ll keep you close to him, especially with how powerful you are. So if you manage to stay out of trouble, and keep your head down, no one from M should even know where you are. Thus, you’ll be safe. Am I making sense here?”

“You’re just making me more annoyed,” Chanyeol answered honestly. “If M wants to target me, seriously, then they’ll send more than one guy after me, which means I’m pretty much dead. And if they don’t want to, then me being here is pretty much pointless, so it doesn’t matter what you say, I have a right to be upset.”

On the other end of the line Chanyeol could hear a flurry of activity, evidence that while he was stuck out in a desolate area with only himself for company, Baekhyun was in the thick of things back in the capital.

However, when Chanyeol really thought about it, the capital was the safest place to be right now. It was well fortified, with the most amount of specials, and as much as Chanyeol knew Suho liked him, he knew Suho liked Baekhyun even more. Baekhyun was going to be safe there, at least for the moment, and that was a weight off his shoulders.

“Suho really needs you out there. It’s not a front, his orders, if that’s what you’re thinking. Half of those soldiers at the base are new recruits, bussed in from nearby towns. Suho needs you there to help oversee their training, and to try to root out anyone with an ability. There’s bound to be a late bloomer in there or two.”

Chanyeol didn’t doubt that. Baekhyun might have been early to manifest, lighting up the whole city of their hometown right before his ninth birthday, but in comparison Chanyeol had been late. He’d been well past puberty by the time he almost burned his house down, and even older the first time he’d manifested his phoenix. 

“There are plenty of officers already here to train the new recruits,” Chanyeol protested. “I don’t need to be here. We’re being invaded, Baek, invaded. This is completely different from having a few skirmishes a year, and having to worry more about feeding our people. This is the face of extinction marching right up to our front door. I should be there, with you, doing something. This is beyond ridiculous.”

Almost accusingly, Baekhyun asked, “You think I don’t want you here? With me?”

“You didn’t exactly fight to keep me at the capitol.” It was almost burned into Chanyeol’s mind, the way that Baekhyun had stood obediently next to Suho and not said a word until the order was issued and Chanyeol had not choice but to do as told. “You could have said something to Suho. You could have fought for me just a little. You seemed happy enough to follow his lead and just ignore what I might want.”

“Is that what this is all about?” Baekhyun demanded. “Are you jealous? Or just upset that I didn’t fight Suho on this? For your information, I didn’t fight him on this because I agree, and I’d rather have you pissed off at me and alive, than here and dead.”

“I’m not jealous,” Chanyeol all but growled out. 

“You sure sound that way, and that’s not an attractive quality.”

Feeling full of anger, Chanyeol climbed to his feet, dusting off his pants. “I’m going to go now. I don’t want to fight with you, and we’re obviously done talking.” He’d probably used up all of his allotted break time and was likely needed to stand around and look imposing to the new recruits. That seemed to be the only use the officers at the base had for him thus far.

“Chanyeol, wait.”

Tersely, Chanyeol said, “Obviously I don’t know how long I’m going to be here, but take care of yourself, and watch after Suho. He forgets to eat and sleep sometimes.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me.”

Chanyeol brought his hand to his ear, pausing only long enough to say, “I love you, you know. I really do.” Then he hung up, his morale low and his anger palpable. 

He could hear a steady beep in his ear, indicating Baekhyun was trying to call him back, but he ignored the sound. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with the person he loved the most. And if he picked up, they would only fight more. There’d be no getting through to Baekhyun when he had decided something, and at least for the moment, Chanyeol couldn’t help feeling betrayed.

They were being invaded. And according to Baekhyun, all because some idiot had gone and stolen the prince’s cousin right out from under him, setting the prince’s furry on Suho.

M and K weren’t matched, outside of the ratio of people with abilities, and everyone knew that M had the upper hand in the war. M had been steadily pushing into K for years, and that had been half heartedly. A full invasion would truly test their power, and Chanyeol had a dark suspicion that if it really came down to a final battle, between K and M, M might win the territory, but they’d all end up dead.

If that was the case, Chanyeol didn’t want to die alone. He wanted to die with Suho who’d fought against his superior at the time, promising Chanyeol wasn’t a threat to them because he was so much older gaining his abilities, and without any kind of control. And with Baekhyun, who’d been the first one to make a move when they were teens, grabbing a too scared Chanyeol by the collar, declaring his love and kissing him senseless in front of everyone. He wanted to be with the people he had fought next to, in the capitol he had sworn to defend. He did not want to be isolated on a military base while Exo K fell apart around them.

A burst of heat from his fingers surprised him, and oddly enough, he almost lost control of the fire within. It was an odd sensation, something he hadn’t felt in years, but it had him staggering a little on his feet. It almost felt like something was kicking and screaming to be let out. 

His phoenix?

Everyone seemed to think the phoenix was a second ability, but it always felt more to Chanyeol like a separate entity that lived inside him. He had some sort of control over it, but when he unleashed the phoenix in battle, most of the time it ended up doing what it wanted. It was all he could do, sometimes, to reign it back in.

Was this the phoenix trying to get out? For what reason? What had sparked it all the sudden?

Chanyeol never told anyone, not even Baekhyun whom he trusted above all else, but the phoenix lent him a sort of personal feeling connection to Mama. He felt drawn to her life tree, not that he ever went with it so far in M’s territory. And once in a while he’d get strange dreams. He didn’t share his dreams with Baekhyun, either. 

How was he supposed to explain dreams that made absolutely no sense? About a place that wasn’t Exo, with all sorts of things he couldn’t understand happening.

Another sharp beep came from his ear and Chanyeol sighed. Baekhyun was persistent. He always had been. He’d probably bother Chanyeol all day long if he didn’t answer and apologize for being difficult.

“I’m sorry okay?” Chanyeol tapped his ear and spoke. “I should try to be more understanding. I’m an insensitive jerk.”

“I already knew all these things, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol froze, trying to identify the voice. It certainly wasn’t Baekhyun’s, but there weren’t a lot of people who had his line, either. “Who is this?”

“The guy who saved your life, you insensitive jerk. You owe me a favor, and I’m calling it in.”

Sehun.

“This isn’t exactly a good time, kid. Not with the invasion happening right at our doorstep.”

Now he could place the voice to Sehun’s face perfectly. Sehun was the kind of guy who always looked a little smug, but had more than enough charisma to pull it off.

There was also no denying that Chanyeol did owe him his life, which meant a life debt, and a favor to be called in at any time for any reason. A life debt was a serious matter under any circumstance. And any way he looked at it, no matter how loose the kid’s control was of his power, Sehun had truly saved his life. The life debt was legitimate. If Sehun hadn’t been able to control the sudden windstorm more than a year ago that Chanyeol had gotten caught in, with enough time for Suho to pull his ass out, then there was no doubt in Chanyeol’s mind he would have been buried in the kicked up debris, or suffocated long before rescue crews could dig him out.

Chanyeol didn’t really talk to Sehun all that much, and it had been a couple months since the last time they’d exchanged any kind of communication, but there was something endearing about Sehun. It could have just been his age, or the way he tried to act like he didn’t really like people, failing miserably. In any case, Chanyeol really liked him, and a life debt was a life debt.

“Trust me,” Sehun said, the transmission crackling a little, “I know right now isn’t a good time. But I need your help with something really important. I need a ride, and you’re the only one who can get one for me.”

“A ride?” Chanyeol scoffed. “Do you have any idea how big a request that is right now?”

Sehun’s reply came immediately. “You’re in the capitol, Chanyeol. There have to be vehicles everywhere. Isn’t your life worth borrowing one of those for me?”

Chanyeol took a look around him, his vision stretching out past the military base. “Actually,” he said a little absently, trying to place the distant towns he could see in either direction, “I’m not at the capitol. And how would you even expect me to get a vehicle to you if I were?”

“You’re not at the capitol? Why not?”

“Suho needed me for something,” Chanyeol said. He squinted again at one of the towns in the distance. Was it the one he thought it was? “I probably won’t be back to the capitol for a while.”

He could hear Sehun curse on the other end. “I need a vehicle, Chanyeol. It’s imperative.”

“How important?”

There was a pause on the line, a lengthy one at that, before Sehun said, “Worth a full life debt. There’s someone who needs my help. A friend, apparently. I need to help him, and you need to help me help him.”

“Are you still in that little hovel of a town you call home?”

“Why?”

“Because I think I see you,” Chanyeol said, more certain that he was looking at the same area he’d almost died at. “I’m stationed at the military base fifteen or so miles away. It’s the same base you should probably be enlisting at.”

Sehun made a few colorful remarks, then said, “You know as well as I do that Commander Suho himself would have to drag me kicking and screaming to get me to enlist.”

Chanyeol headed for the tall building’s stairs right away. “I’ll borrow a military vehicle, okay? No one at the base is on the move, and it’ll probably be a few more weeks before a final inventory is taken, if any of us is still alive by then. You’ll have the vehicle back to me by then, right?” He hopped the stairs easily, pushing through the door at the ground level and ignoring a couple of fresh enlisters who saluted him right away.

Chanyeol was desperate to get out of his uniform. He didn’t think it suited him at all, and he hated the attention the stripes on the collar of his uniform garnered. 

With a relieved sigh, Sehun said, “My friend and I will be waiting for you just outside of town. You’ll see us before you even hit the outskirts of town.”

Chanyeol crossed the military base quickly, trying not to draw any unwanted eyes to his position. He had full access to anything and everything on the base. Working in his favor was that he was expected to cooperate with the other officers on the base, not answer to them. But Chanyeol didn’t think for one second that Suho would appreciate what he was about to do.

Not that Suho needed to know.

“Sir?”

Chanyeol slid into the nearest vehicle when he reached the far hanger bay. He popped the engine button and listened to it purr to life.

“Sir?”

Chanyeol turned towards the maintenance worker. He was obviously young, and nervous.

“You know who I am?” Chanyeol asked, keeping his foot on the brake.

“I know, sir. But I don’t think the major would want you going off base, right now. He’s ordered a lockdown until all newly enlisted are processed, and they’re still arriving. He’ll be angry if he knows you went anywhere.”

Chanyeol scoffed. “The major is a giant baby who just wants people to take him seriously and pay attention to him. I’ll be back before sunset.” At least he hoped. He’d have to get a ride with one of the transports bringing the enlisted into the base. That wouldn’t be fun. “Pretend like you never saw me, okay? We’ll both steer clear of trouble that way.”

Then he was off, more than a little thrilled to be away from the base, even at the risk of being insubordinate. The wind in his hair, the sun on skin and the feeling of freedom was more than enough compensation for the lecture he’d get from Suho when his behavior eventually got back to the man.

Suho was likely put him on latrine duty for a month, and it would still be worth it.

There were two figures a half mile out of town, and one of them was distinctly Sehun’s tall, lithe form.

“We’re perfectly square now,” Chanyeol declared, jerking the vehicle to a stop just in front of Sehun and his companion. He slid out to stand on his feet and tried to get a better look at the so called friend that Sehun was trading in a life debt for. But the boy, and that was about all Chanyeol was sure about, was carefully keeping his back to Chanyeol and his face hidden. “I owe you nothing after this.”

Eyes wide, Sehun remarked, “I can’t believe you actually brought this.”

Chanyeol gave a small shrug. “You said you needed it, and that it was important, and that you’d wipe out the life debt. That’s good enough for me.”

Sehun gave a nod back in the direction of the military base. “Won’t someone notice this is missing? I won’t be able to bring it back for a couple of days.”

The man behind Sehun turned just the slightest, but it still wasn’t a clear enough picture of what he looked like. 

“Call me when you’re on your way back,” Chanyeol said easily enough. “I’ll pick it up then. Plus, there’s a good chance you won’t even need to worry about bringing it back. M is on the move and they’re being quick about it. They may just decide to start flattening military bases on their way, and we only have so many.” Chanyeol gave a laugh. “The more I think about it, the less I should be concerned with that life debt.”

“M’s a little high strung right now,” Sehun said carefully, and Chanyeol watched him send an odd look to his companion. “But with any luck, they’ll settle down soon.”

Confused, Chanyeol posed, “Why would M settle down. Their favorite figurehead is gone, probably dead at his point, their prince has gone crazy over it, and apparently their king thinks this is a great time to try and wipe us all out.”

“We’re not all going to die,” Sehun said confidently. “Oh, but I really need you to promise me that you won’t tell anyone you saw me leaving. I think we got out of the town without being spotted, but just in case, you never saw us, we were never here, and no one has any idea that I’m not traveling alone.”

“Who is your companion?” Chanyeol asked, trying to peer around Sehun.

Things were getting more and more curious, Chanyeol noted, with the way Sehun deliberately moved to block his view, stating, “That’s not important. But we need to go soon. I have to get to M and K’s borderline quick, if there’s going to be any chance of stopping this.”

Chanyeol snorted, “Stopping this? What are you doing, Sehun? Going on some rogue mission for Suho to return the prince’s cousin to him to quiet M down? Newsflash for you, Baekhyun told me personally that Suho didn’t order the kidnapping. We don’t even know if he’s in K. M is just using this as an excuse to rally its people into supporting a final invasion. Nothing short of a miracle could end this.”

“I’m very aware of that.”

Chanyeol’s head cocked. It hadn’t been Suhun who’d spoken, but his thus far silent friend. “What?”

The man turned completely towards Chanyeol. “It will be a miracle if we get to my cousin in time to stop this, but no matter what, we will try.”

Chanyeol’s body was numb for a half second, and then with a terrible cry his back was arching and his phoenix was bursting loose. 

“Chanyeol!” Sehun shouted at him, throwing himself back, over the one person Chanyeol had never expected to see in person in his lifetime. Luhan. Sehun was doing his best to protect Luhan from the phoenix. Impossible Luhan. “Get control of yourself!”

It was no good. The phoenix was out, his fire was blazing and Chanyeol realized his sudden loss of control had likely just killed the one person they needed to survive above everyone else. And Sehun. Numbly Chanyeol realized his burst of fire had probably killed Sehun, too. The ground was charred around them all.

“I apologize,” Luhan said, as if nothing life threatening had just happened, one hand out in front of him. “I didn’t meant to startle you.” Luhan stood slowly, dragging Sehun up with him, both of them perfectly fine.

“How are you two okay?” Chanyeol asked, grasping at his control, drawing his fire back in, but not before he witnessed how easily Luhan deflected his instinctive attack, both fire and phoenix meeting an impenetrable barrier.

Chanyeol’s phoenix circled above them for a little longer, then gave a loud, crooning sound and flashed out of existence.

“Sehun,” Chanyeol said carefully, watching the Sehun also process what they’d just seen Luhan do so easily. “Do you have any idea who you have with you?”

“Yeah,” Sehun’s head dipped. “I’ve got the cause of this war. That’s why I need the vehicle. I’m taking him back to his crazy cousin, so he can call off this invasion.”

Chanyeol stared at Luhan hard. “You were kidnapped.”

“It was a mistake,” Sehun cut in.

Luhan gave an agreeing nod. “Kai didn’t mean to. One of my personal guard interrupted us, he saw Kai as a threat, and when he tried to teleport us away something happened. I ended up here and it’s clear that my cousin took it as a kidnapping.”

Sehun wondered, tapping his chin, “Do you have a boosted signal at the base? Maybe we could just take Luhan there instead and have him contact the prince from there. Or would they take it as proof we’ve kidnapped him?”

“Wait.” Chanyeol took a bold step towards Luahn. “You know Kai?”

“Do you?” Luhan countered harmlessly. “Have you see him? I’m worried. We were separated and I want to make sure he’s okay. He could have ended up anywhere, if this is where I did.”

Behind them a lout alarm sounded from the base in the distance.

“What’s that?” Sehun asked, squinting against the sun.

Chanyeol slapped a hand to his forehead. Of course. “It’s the base’s alarm to brace for attack. They must have seen my phoenix. They’ll think M is here already and seconds away from attacking.”

Luhan turned to Sehun. “We need to go.”

“Are you crazy?” Chanyeol shouted at them. He focused a second later on Sehun. “We have to take Luhan to Suho right away.” Luhan might end up being a political prisoner, but at least they’d be able to prove to M that he as alive and well. It might buy them some time.

Luhan planed his feet squarely underneath him. “I am not going into to your Commander’s custody. I have to get to the life tree. I need to communicate with Mama.”

Chanyeol shook his head. “I can’t just let you go.”

“I don’t think you can stop me,” Luhan said simply.

It was something to consider that he’d been able to block the burst of Chanyeol’s abilities so effortlessly. He’d protected no only himself, but Sehun as well with a simple gesture and no obvious effort on his part. Neither had he retaliated when he clearly would have been able to. Frequent reports labeled the prince’s cousin as sickly and weak, and a low level telekinetic, but it seemed far from the truth now that Chanyeol saw him in person. Luhan was incredibly powerful and Chanyeol was a little terrified of him.

“He has visions,” Sehun said, already rounding the vehicle to the driver’s side. “He had one before I called you, and I’ve never seen anything like it before, Chanyeol. If he says he has to get to the life tree so he can talk to Mama, whatever that means, then I believe him. He has to go back to M no matter what, and Suho might not let that happen. We have the best shot at stopping the invasion, so you need to get out of the way now.”

Chanyeol watched Luhan climb in the vehicle after Sehun and the engine started up seconds later.

“You weren’t kidnapped?” Chanyeol asked again for clarification, leaning into the vehicle’s cab, his mind whirling. “You’re certain?”

“No.” Luhan looked pale, maybe a little ill, but more than strong enough to move Chanyeol out of the way physically if he delayed them much longer. “Why would Kai need to take what I offered freely?”

Chanyeol spun back towards the base, hands in his hair. “They’ll be out looking for you. K’s forces will spot you before you even make it halfway to the M boarder.”

“We have to try,” Sehun said. 

Sehun wasn’t normally so impulsive. Chanyeol was certain of that, but Luhan was telekinetic, and not telepathic. There was no way the prince’s cousin was manipulating or forcing Sehun to act out against K. And this was treason, there was no doubt in that. There’d be charges if anyone found out that Sehun hadn’t taken Luhan directly to the nearest military base for transport to Suho.

So that only left one option, which was that Sehun really believed that Luhan could stop the invasion by simply being reunited with his cousin. 

Or maybe Sehun had just gotten suckered by Luhan’s face. He did have an exceptionally beautiful face. 

“Move over!” Chanyeol demanded roughly, pulling open the driver’s side door. “In the back, Sehun!”

There must have been something about the authority in his voice that made the younger man comply right away, because without much fuss Sehun was in the back seat and Chanyeol was driving as fast as he could.

“What are you doing?” Sehun asked, bouncing around as the vehicle took a sharp corner. 

“Getting myself convicted of treason,” Chanyeol said. He gripped the wheel tight. “Neither of you understand military search patterns, and I’ve spend some time in this area. I know the roads they’ll be following to look for me. They will be looking for me.”

“Then why don’t we just dump you on the side of the road?” Sehun suggested.

“We need him,” Luhan said gently.

“You do,” Chanyeol said with a firm nod. “I stand a better chance of helping you both avoid any military checkpoints we’ll hit along the way, and I’m probably the only one of the three of us that could get us through them if we do. Plus, the alarm sounded because someone at the base saw my phoenix. It only comes out when I feel threatened, specifically by someone else with abilities that either match or surpass my own. They won’t be looking for a group of people. We’re safer together.”

“Oh,” Sehun said, leaning back.

Chanyeol was startled by Luhan’s warm hand settling on his arm, and even more by his words, “That’s not what I meant.”

Sehun gave a rude sound from the backseat. “Is this where you tell me you and Chanyeol are best dream friends, too?”

Chanyeol’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

“We’re not,” Luhan said patiently, keeping his eyes on Chanyeol. “But Chanyeol is connected to Mama, Sehun, just like I am.”

“Excuse me?” Chanyeol asked. “What’s this about Mama?”

Luhan questioned, “Does Mama send you visions?”

Chanyeol barked out a laugh. “No way. I don’t even know if I believe in Mama. For all I know, she’s just this thing that people like you thought up to make the rest of us pretend to be better people. Maybe that so called life tree is just a really old tree.”

“No,” Luhan said definitively. “I can feel Mama’s influence in you, and I know you can feel it in me. Maybe you’re just too far from her life tree to experience her visions.”

What was he supposed to feel in Luhan? Annoyance? Maybe that was it. Only … he did have to admit, though just to himself, that he could sort of feel an odd buzz from Luhan where they were touching. It was barely there, and Chanyeol could have missed it easily, but it was also possible that the buzz was a reflection of them both having abilities. It wasn’t completely uncommon for people with abilities to react to each other.

Begrudgingly, however, Chanyeol said, “I really haven’t had any visions. But sometimes, once in a while, I have these weird dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?”

“Weird, like I said,” Chanyeol offered, taking them off road at the first chance. “People I know are there, and some I don’t but still seem to be friends with, and we’re all dressed weird, and speak another language, and we don’t know each other, but we do. See what I mean? It’s weird and confusing and we aren’t on Exo, that’s for sure, or some undiscovered part of Exo which is pretty unlikely because our planet is pretty damn small.”

With confidence Luhans said, “When you’re at Mama’s life tree, things will become more clear to you.”

“You think I’m going anywhere near that life tree?” Chanyeol wasn’t stupid. Well, his current actions begged that statement, but generally speaking he knew what would happen if he was caught in M’s territory. “I’m getting you as close to K as I possibly can, sending you on your merry way, and then I’m taking Sehun back to a place where people won’t try to kill him on sight, all the while I’m hoping that I won’t be decommissioned for doing what I think is right. That hope is dwindling by the second.”

Chanyeol tried to concentrate on the road after that, but there were so many questions running through his head starting with the one he had to ask Luhan. “How do you know Kai?”

Diplomatic relations between K and M had been over for years, so there was no way that Luhan and Kai had been meeting in any sanctioned kind of way. Neither did Chanyeol think that Kai would be Suho’s first choice in that department. The idea that Kai and Luhan could even begin to know each other was crazy.

“We met because fate cannot and will not be denied,” Luhan said, his words deceptively vague. “And Kai, if you claim to know him as you do, is not the sort to discriminate a friendship based on someone’s origin.”

Chanyeol asked him seriously, “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Kai?”

Luhan allowed, “He was a bit cold at first, but he warmed quickly.”

Chanyeol glanced at Sehun. “I’m really starting to think we’re talking about a different Kai. There must be two Kais who can conveniently both teleport.”

“I don’t really think that this is--” Luhan started to say, but Chanyeol cut him off with a sweeping hand motion. There was a beeping in his ear.

“Don’t say a word,” Chanyeol cautioned, then he tapped his earpiece. “Hello?”

“Chanyeol!” 

He winced at the sound of Baekhyun’s voice. It was too tense, too worried, and it made Chanyeol feel too guilty. “I’m here.”

“What’s going on?” Baekhyun demanded. “We’re getting reports from the base you’re stationed at that you’re under attack! Someone sounded the alarm after seeing your phoenix. Are you okay? What’s happening? Your tracking bracelet says you’re heading away from the base.”

“Damn,” Chanyeol hissed, tearing at the silver bracelet fitted around his wrist. It took him longer than he wanted to get it off, then he tossed it out the window and replied to Baekhyun, “I promise I’m okay. Calm down. It was a false alarm.”

“What do you mean false alarm?” Baekhyun’s voice was still too frightened for Chanyeol to even begin to think about calming down himself. “Someone saw your phoenix, Chanyeol. We all know what that means.”

“Do not tell him anything,” Sehun warned. 

Chanyeol glared at Sehun, then told Baekhyun, “There was no attack. I am fine. Can you just believe me when I say that?”

Baekhyun quieted. “What’s going on?”

“I got a lead,” Chanyeol said, leaning forward to look at the power cell reading of the vehicle. It had a full charge, and probably enough to take them close enough to M’s boarder to offload Luhan without stopping for a recharge. That was probably more luck than anything else. “A lead on the prince’s missing cousin. Tell Suho I think he’s alive, and I’m going to try and find him.”

“Those are not your orders!”

“No,” Chanyeol countered, “My orders are apparently to sit around a military base being useless and wait until Suho stops trying to be my big brother. I’m telling you, I may be able to end this invasion. If Suho has a problem with that, tell him to take it up with logic and reason.”

Quietly, Baekhyun said, “Your signal stopped. Did you ditch your tracker?”

Chanyeol pursed his lips, “Baekhyun.”

“Are you doing something dangerous?”

“Aren’t I always?” Chanyeol teased. “But Baekhyun, what I’m doing right now … it’s important. I have to do it right now and if it works, a lot of lives could be saved.”

If he didn’t get Luhan back to M, and if Luhan didn’t have a chance to talk his crazy cousin down from the invasion, something he seemed confident he could do, eventually M would roll into the capitol. Baekhyun was too close to Suho, both in their friendship and the importance of his job, to evacuate. If M reached K’s capital, they wouldn’t take prisoners. Baekhyun would die, and because of that, Chanyeol was willing to take any shot he had at stopping M.

Taking Luhan back to M could stop Baekhyun from facing death, and that was all Chanyeol cared about. 

Baekhyun took an audible intake of breath. “Don’t you dare get yourself killed. Do you understand me?”

A smile broke onto Chanyeol’s face. “I understand.”

“I can only cover for you so much here,” Baekhyun warned. “Suho is going to get nosey very quickly and want to know where you are and what you’re doing. I can only contain so much information.”

“Understood as well.”

Baekhyun was the best. Chanyeol had no doubt about that. He was the most amazing guy Chanyeol had ever had the pleasure of knowing, and the way he still made Chanyeol’s palms sweat and heart beat faster after all these years was amazing.

“I love you,” Baekhyun said sharply. “Even when we’re fighting, and you’re running off to do something stupid, I still love you.”

Chanyeol thought about the first time they’d kissed, Baekhyun pulling him in tight and Chanyeol ducking down for the best moment of his life so far. They’d been so young, but so determined, and when Baekhyun had gone off to join the military and make a difference, Chanyeol had followed suit. They’d done everything together, and the more he thought about it, the more Chanyeol realized this was the first important thing that he was doing without Baekhyun.

Unwilling to feel bashful in front of Luhan and Sehun, Chanyeol cleared his throat and said strongly, “I love you, too. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Sehun poked Chanyeol in the shoulder as the call ended. “Is that Baekhyun? That better be Baekhyun.”

“Sit back,” Chanyeol grumbled out. “I’m irritated with you.”

Luhan, looking poised in his seat, and every bit the member of the royal family he was, told Chanyeol, “I will talk my cousin down. He’s thinking with his heart right now, not his head. I will succeed, because there are too many lives at stake here.”

Chanyeol confessed, “You’re not what I expected, Luhan. From someone from M, that is.”

“You haven’t been around a lot of people from M, have you?” Sehun questioned.

Chanyeol shrugged, “Only ones I’ve been around, I was killing at the time.”

The last bit of color drained out of Luhan’s face and Sehun eased out, “Not really appropriate in mixed company, Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun was always going on about how little tact he seemed to have. It seemed now to be a truth. 

“It’s going to be a long drive,” Chanyeol said, “so get comfortable. And maybe, since you two seem to be believers, send a prayer to Mama that we’re not discovered by either M or K.”

“That,” Sehun agreed, “would be very bad.”

“We’ll get there,” Luhan said, drawing their attention. “If only because we have to.”

“That’s very reassuring,” Sehun said sarcastically. 

Chanyeol rested his head back on the seat’s cushion. He’d be lucky to arrive at the borderline without having killed one or both of them. 

However by the time night was inching forward across the horizon, and with Luhan sleeping peacefully in the passenger seat, Chanyeol was starting to feel better about his choice to come with them. He’d never really been a selfless kind of guy, relying on Baekhyun to keep him on the straight and narrow sometimes. But he was starting to feel a sense of purpose, or like he had crossed paths with Luhan on purpose.

He wasn’t saying he believed in Mama or fate, but he was keeping the thoughts on his mind.

Quietly, mindful of Luhan, Sehun brought Chanyeol out of the kind of daze he’d been driving in by asking, “Are those headlights?”

The sun was orange in their vision, still too bright to be more than a glare, and Chanyeol had to squint to make out what was ahead of them. They hadn’t run into any patrols or checkpoints that they couldn’t bypass so far, but he always figured their luck was bound to run out sooner or later.

“Maybe we’ll just pass them by,” Chanyeol said, not wanting to scare Sehun.

“Should we wake Luhan?” Sehun pointed out, “You and I both have only seen a little taste of his abilities, but I’m starting to think there’s a lot more under the surface. He’s … crazy powerful, Chanyeol. We might need him, if they don’t just drive by.”

Chanyeol held his breath as their vehicles approached each other. He was in no mood for a fight, but neither would he let anyone stop him from completing the task at hand. He would get Luhan home and end the invasion.

“They’re going to try and stop us,” Sehun said, already reaching for Luhan’s shoulder. 

The lights ahead of them were veering into their path, and to avoid being hit Chanyeol had to slam on the breaks faster than anticipated. “Luhan!” he called out, watching the small boy jerk against the restraints holding him to the seat. “We need you up and ready.”

Sehun practically threw his door open, declaring, “Lets go show them who they’re messing with.”

Luhan blinked blearily. “What’s happening?”

“Trouble,” Chanyeol said with absolute certainty, then climbed from the car to face it head on.


	6. Lay

Lay had heard on more than once occasion that his healing felt like the sun. Warm. A little tingly. Like a mother’s comforting touch. That was why it was probably only fair that when Lay healed someone, from a life threatening wound to a simple paper cut, it felt like icy needles jamming against his hands. Healing stung, sometimes so badly and with so much ferocity that he could picture the tips of his fingers turning blue and then falling off. 

No one knew about it except for Luhan, who tended to know everything about everyone no matter what, and Chen who had found out on accident. 

Sometimes when Lay thought about it, he supposed it had to be a matter of equivalent exchange. When Luhan overtaxed himself, or Mama sent him a particularly strong vision, he could be down for days, weak and lethargic. When Tao used his ability too frequently he could lose his grasp on reality, not to mention where he was in time, and potentially drive himself mad. Xiumin ran the risk of hypothermia, and Chen had actually overloaded his own body once with electricity and shocked himself into a frightening few seconds of existence without a pulse before Lay could get to him. Chen hadn’t been breathing and Lay had struggled with the task himself until Chen was awake and talking, on the road to recovery.

They all had to learn to balance when to use their abilities, and that in order to take, they had to be ready to give as well.

It just felt overwhelming at times, being one of three known healers in M. There was little personal time to be found, a great deal of demand for his ability, and the knowledge that one day his abilities would likely kill him. No healer since the beginning had escaped such a fate.

“Lay?”

Lay opened his eyes, having shut them minutes earlier to concentrate on the person in front of him. He’d been alone when his eyes had closed, but now he was in the presence of Chen and the prince, both who were looking at him expectantly. Like he had all the answers. 

Cheating death once in a while was a fine thing, but there was no delaying it indefinitely. 

“It’s the same as before,” Lay said, gingerly releasing the king’s hand and sliding off the mammoth bed. “I can’t do anything.”

The prince looked crestfallen. “Nothing?”

Lay shook his head. “The damage from constant decades of using his ability, coupled with his age … I can’t make his body strong again, your highness. I can’t even dull the pain anymore.”

He tried not to look too much at the withered, dying king whenever he made his trip to try and save him at the prince’s behest. It was true that the king had been significantly older than the queen when they’d had the prince, but what concerned Lay more was the vision of the future the king made. There was a reason they weren’t surrounded by their ability wielding elders. The body could only hold out under tremendous strain for so long, and the king was no exception. This was the future that they all faced, as long as they continued to use their abilities.

The king had been an exceptionally talented illusionist in his day. Now he was just weak and days from death.

“Are you sure?” Chen asked, eyes darting between Lay and the king. “Absolutely?”

“I’m sure,” Lay ground out, feeling exhausted. He let himself sit on the edge of the king’s bed, his elbows on his knees and his shoulders slumping. “He’s got a day or two at the most, but he isn’t even responding to my touch anymore. There’s nothing I can do for him at this point.”

The prince looked pained, and Lay couldn’t blame him. He’d lost his mother to illness, and now his father to old age. And even if it was common knowledge that the prince wasn’t especially close with his father, losing a parent was an impacting event. Lay knew that first hand.

“Is there anything else we can try?” Kris asked a bit desperately.

Lay offered gently, “Everything that can be done, is. And eventually, your highness, you have to be willing to let people go.”

The prince made an odd noise, then said, “I need him to go when the time is convenient.”

“I’m sorry?” Lay said, not sure he’d heard right.

The king’s chest continued to rise and fall sporadically as Chen relayed to the prince, “I’ll go and inform your father’s inner circle. They’ll want an update on his condition and we have to make it seem like we don’t suspect they’re trying to take control of the situation for their favor. Please remain here until I’m done.”

“Lie,” the prince said, surprising Lay and Chen at the same time. He put an uncharacteristically comforting hand on Chen’s shoulder. “Tell them Lay’s ability is getting stronger and he’s been able to make some progress. Tell them my father is showing signs of improvement, and then station some of the most loyal men you know to guard his doors. No one in or out without my permission.”

Chen ducked into a bow right away, then was striding off to fulfill the request.

“Your highness?” Lay asked, missing Luhan more than anything else at the minute. The pinched features on the prince’s face spoke volumes that he hadn’t been sleeping, likely hadn’t been eating, and was wearing himself thin. Luhan was exceptionally good at getting the prince to relax, or simply just breathe and calm down. Luhan was probably the only person that Kris actually listened to, except for maybe Tao.

Lay often pretended he didn’t see the long looks between Tao and the prince, or the way they’d brush against each other in something that only first appeared to be a harmless manner. It was perfectly acceptable to love someone you weren’t supposed to, it probably couldn’t be avoided all the time. But the prince and Luhan were supposed to be married. Surely the prince wouldn’t insult Luhan’s honor by continuing his tryst with Tao afterwards.

Luhan would be back. He’d be back and healthy and then Lay could stop feeling guilty that he’d slept his way through one of his closest friend’s abduction. 

The prince nodded towards the king’s nearby sitting room and said plainly, “Follow me to my father’s study. We need to talk.”

Lay had never been in anything but the king’s private bedroom, and that was more out of necessity than anything else. But the room where a much younger king would have entertained close friends was just as lavishly decorated as Lay would have suspected. 

“Is this about Luhan?” Lay asked tentatively, afraid for the answer. “Or Tao?” Tao and Xiumin had mysteriously disappeared a day ago, and while Lay was certain both Chen and the prince knew where they were, neither had said anything on the matter.

“In part.” Kris gestured for them to sit.

“Your highness?” Lay had never seen him look so beaten down.

The prince surprised him by stating, “I know you said your ability isn’t having an affect on my father any longer, and his days are numbered, but he has to live, Lay. At least for a short while more.”

“How much longer?” Lay asked. “A few days?”

“I don’t know,” the prince admitted, running a hand across the back of his neck. “Until Luhan is found.”

Lay eased out, “Found.” But did the prince mean alive and healthy, or until his body was recovered. “Found how?”

After a second more, the prince asked, “How long have we known each other, Lay?”

That was a question worth considering. “Almost ten years now,” Lay reasoned. “I was brought to the palace right after my ability started maturing. We’ve known each other personally for around eight.”

“Do you trust me?”

Lay settled more fully back in his chair. “I trust you.” That wasn’t hard to stay with genuine truth backing him. The prince could be irrational at times, and quick to judgment, but overall he was going to be a very strong ruler once he was a little older. The prince had the ability to put others before himself, and that wasn’t always the case with the royal family.

“Then believe me when I say that for all our sakes, my father has to live until Luhan comes home.”

“Tell me why,” Lay requested, leaning forward. 

A dark cloud seemed to settle over the prince, his fingers curling around the ends of the armrests. “Because, Lay, I’m powerless and weak with him in the condition he is, at least without Luhan here to support me.”

“You’re not weak,” Lay argued. “You’re your father’s heir. When he passes, whether Luhan is here or not, you’ll inherit the throne.”

“But inheriting is not the same as having the power. The truth is, Lay, that with my father incapacitated, his inner circle, his advisors, they have all the power. They’re his provisionary rule, and they’re calling all the shots right now. They ordered M to invade K on the king’s behalf, and they’re the ones who made the call to wipe out the neutral area. I’m just putting on a show, trying to maintain the façade that I have some pull over them. I don’t really.”

Lay could see the panic written all over his face, and told him, “But your father will die in a few days. You’ll be king.”

“And those same men making all the decisions right now will likely push for a call of no confidence in me. I’ve never been in battle, Lay. I’ve never proven myself or my worth to M, and they can use that. I’ll have to leave my position in the palace to go and win the people’s confidence while they hold the throne.”

Lay wondered, “How would having Luhan make a difference?”

“Other than the fact that people love him?”

“Other than that.”

The prince sighed. “Nothing would help me more than the love that the people have for Luhan. They don’t even see him as a person anymore. To them, he’s mere a physical representation of Mama. To all the believers, he’s the conduit between us and Mama. And to the skeptics, the ones that refuse to acknowledge Mama, Luhan is still an extremely powerful strength behind the throne. Luhan does nothing but strengthen me, and if we were married when my father dies, we could provide a united front. The people would be able to rally behind us with confidence, and my father’s advisors wouldn’t have any sway over what happens.”

“We don’t know where Luhan is,” Lay offered. “Or if he’s even alive. We barely know what happened to him.”

Confidently, the prince said, “He’s in K. If he were in M, he’d be back by now, or at the very least he’d be able to contact us. That leaves K. And nothing short of Mama herself could kill Luhan.”

The irony of those words were not lost on Lay, not when he spent several nights a week in Luhan’s bedroom, helping him recover from Mama’s increasingly violent visions, the kind that usually brought fits with them.

“He’s alive,” the prince repeated, and Lay could tell that the prince believed in what he said. “And I believe that my father’s inner circle thinks he’s alive, too. They’ve suspiciously diverted a portion of our troops to areas outside of the battle zone, and there are a few known mercenaries for hire who the whispers in the palace tell me are on assignment from the council itself. They’re obviously looking for someone, and my guess is Luhan. If they find him before Tao and Xiumin do, I will have no choice but to comply with whatever they decide.”

Lay frowned. “You think they’ll use Luhan as leverage against you?”

“They’ve tried before,” the prince revealed, surprising Lay. “Back when they thought Luhan was docile and incapable of seeing through their manipulation. It took them a very short while to realize that Luhan is not one to be toyed with. Still, they tried once, and they’ll try again, because they realize that Luhan is the key to the confidence of my rule with the people.”

“But things would be different if you were married, right?”

The prince nodded. “The throne would be strengthened through our marriage. That’s frankly the only reason we’re getting married. We care for each other, love each other even, but we’re not soul mates. However, Luhan understands that his marrying me will provide M and my rule with solidity, and in return he’ll be less of a mark to the vipers in the palace. We’ll each protect each other, though in different ways.”

“Oh,” Lay eased out.

The prince’s face pulled a small, sad smile. “I know how you all talk. You and Xiumin, even Chen and Tao, you’re friends with Luhan. You serve your duty to me, but we’re not really friends, not like you are with Luhan. You must see me as brutish towards him, controlling where he goes, who he spends his time with … and I’m guilty to a fault. But I’m also scared for him, and scared for what I might do if something happened to him.”

The prince wasn’t the sort to get scared easily, and even when he did, he hid it masterfully. But Lay understood that this was a different kind of fear from the kind that usually gripped him. It was the fear that had Lay’s mouth going dry as he tried to ask, “You don’t think they’d hurt him, do you? Your father’s council?”

“I don’t know if they can,” the prince offered honestly. “Luhan is likely the most powerful being in M, between his connection to Mama and his telekinesis. They probably couldn’t kill him if hey tried, but I’m not willing to risk it. But they’ve got to have thought about it. Removing Luhan from the equation would weaken me, and it would weaken the bloodline. I don’t have any other first cousins, and there are very few left with enough royal blood in them to be considered a match to me. So yes, I’m overprotective, and I keep him sheltered, and I make mistakes, but I do it because I’m scared. They’d snatch the throne from me in a second if they could, and I know that’s what they’re trying to do right now.”

The air around them was palpable, and Lay, who had spent a good deal of his life following Luhan around and interacting with the prince, had never felt so close to him. 

“That’s where Xiumin and Tao went, isn’t it? To find Luhan and bring him back? But K is too vast a territory. There’s no way they’re going to manage that before the king dies, your highness. There’s no way.”

The prince countered, “They have an idea where he might have ended up. It’s just a guess, but they have to try. If Luhan is found by almost anyone in K with an association to the military, they’ll attempt to kill him. And if the group that my father’s inner circle sent to find him manage it, they’ll take him into their custody and try to use him to force me to push their agenda when I’m king. They won’t give him back to me, Lay. They’ll take him as far away from me as they can manage, and he’ll be nothing but leverage.”

Lay shook his head. “Luhan is far stronger than those men, your highness. They couldn’t take him against his will if they tried.”

“They could with this.” The prince reached into his pocket and drew out a thin, silver band. It was obvious to Lay right away that it was intended to go on someone’s wrist, and could be sized accordingly, but what it was, he wasn’t sure. 

“What is it?” Lay asked, taking the object into his own hands. He turned it over, examining it closely, but he was no closer to figuring out what it was.

“It’s the future,” the prince said with a sigh. “For when we demolish K, and take her people into our custody. The normal ones, they’ll be easy enough to control. These bracelets are for the ones with abilities.”

The way he spoke, there was no denying it, he wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of M beating K into submission. Lay had always known that it was the prince’s father, and not the prince himself, who continued to push for reunification with K, but Lay was just now beginning to understand that the prince was even less agreeable to the decision than originally imagined. 

Lay guessed, his voice laced with disbelief, “Is this a dampener?” He could feel the unique, eerily nauseating sensation almost radiating off of it.

There was no way. Dampeners were typically foot long, clunky rectangular devices that drew upon a significant amount of power to block out Mama’s gifts. They were faulty at times, hard to move around, and ages away from being implemented in any serious way. Dampeners were only used in the most extreme situations, and even Luhan had refused them at the cost of his health.

But maybe that was more about him almost inherently needing to feel Mama despite whatever consequences.

“Here. Let me show you.” The prince snatched up the bracelet and brought it down on Lay’s bare wrist easily, the metal sliding down without resistance to wrist against skin. “Goes on easy. For someone like Luhan who’s never seen this, he’d never know it was coming.”

“How do I know it’s working?” Lay asked, turning his wrist over.

The prince pushed up one of his long sleeves to reveal a cut running along the length of his forearm. It wasn’t particularly deep, but it was fresh by its red color, and ugly. “Don’t ask. I had a disagreement with one of the knives Luhan usually keeps on display in his bedroom. The set that my father got him for his twentieth birthday when he … started showing interest in our betrothal.”

Lay took the prince’s arm in his hands delicately. “You should stop blaming yourself, your highness.” The last thing they needed was a self-deprecating future king. 

The prince ignored him, and instead he urged, “Try to heal the wound.”

When Lay healed people, especially the easy injuries that were usually caused by minor accidents, he could make the skin look as good as new. He’d healed Luhan’s scraped knees over the years. But even the more severe, like Xiumin’s training accident when he’d taken an sword to the ribs and come perilously close to death, and Tao’s frightful fall from the second story balcony of he prince’s rooms, were flawless recoveries. Each injury was now as if it had never been there. 

“I …” Lay paused, eyebrows pulling together. “I can’t.” He couldn’t feel the tingle under his fingertips, the telltale sign that he was about to will his ability to manifest. It was horribly disconcerting to feel and he reached for the bracelet immediately. “Hey!” He pulled hard at it, but he couldn’t get it off.

“Hold still,” the prince commanded, leaning forward to grip the bracelet and pull it off easily. “These can be keyed directly to anyone’s fingerprints. This one will only release for mine.”

Lay couldn’t help glaring warily at the bracelet that was sliding back into the prince’s pocket. “It was horrible. Have you tried it?”

“I couldn’t really test out how well they work on me,” the prince laughed. “Short of dropping to my death off the roof, there’d be no surefire way to see if I could still fly wearing one.” Neither did Lay think for a second that the prince would allow himself to be placed in a position of inferiority. He already worried about his weaknesses. He wouldn’t risk the greatest one possible. 

His voice dropping to a mere whisper, Lay offered, “You could try it on your dragon.”

There were exactly seven people, that Lay knew of at least, who were aware of the magnitude of the prince’s second ability. Lay had been privy to the manifestation of the prince’s dragon by accident, and he had made number seven. It was a closely guarded secret, right up there with Luhan’s true strength. But it would come out eventually, especially if the prince was going to be expected to lead them to victory in K. 

“Not an option,” the prince said gruffly. “But suffice to say, I feel the same way about these things that you obviously do. My father’s been working on these since almost the beginning of the war. We’ll use them on K first, taking away Mama’s gifts without hesitation, and then eventually, my gut feeling is that we’ll start to use them on any of our own people who pose a threat. These small things, they’re going to be the start of something even more terrible than the war we’re currently in.”

“Can’t you do anything about them?” Lay asked.

The prince shook his head and looked extremely tired, like he hadn’t slept at all in days. It was a believable thought. 

“Nothing,” the prince relayed. “They’ve already begun being mass produced. They’ll be in K inside the week, and they’ll start to be implemented on a widespread level shortly after that.”

It was probably the one line that M had never crossed with K. Anyone with abilities who opposed M was fair game. But to the best of Lay’s knowledge, M had never directly targeted a K civilian with an ability who refused to fight. The ones that kept their heads down and stayed out of the way were typically allowed to live on in peace. They were usually the first to migrate away from the fighting and weren’t followed.

Lay dared to wonder, “What are you going to do?”

The prince huffed out, “Hope for the best with Xiumin and Tao, for starters. Xiumin thinks his hunch about where Luhan could be is good. If Mama is feeling especially merciful to me today, they’ll recover him before my father’s men do, and it’ll be before my father dies. Then when he’s back, Luhan and I can decide what to do about these dampeners.”

Lay pursed his lips for a second, then said, “Isn’t Luhan always going on about how Mama is constantly guiding him? He swears that she had a direct influence over his life, and it might be crazy, but I pretty much believe everything he says about Mama. No one has a stronger connection to her than he does. So maybe praying to Mama for help with his safe return might actually do some good.”

“I hardly think that Mama can control Luhan. No one, not even Mama, is capable of that.” The prince gave a snort of disbelief. “Don’t get me wrong, I believe in Mama. You and I have seen too much with Luhan not to think that she isn’t some sort of sentient being that really is the genesis of our abilities, but I don’t think she can do anything more about Luhan being lost than Xiumin and Tao can.”

Lay reached out, settling his fingers over the prince’s wound and coaxing his gift out. In less than a minute, feeling the tingle of pain in his own body, Lay had finished and the skin was smooth. “I don’t think it could hurt. I’m going to go visit Mama’s life tree. I’ll pray for Luhan’s safe return tonight.”

The prince didn’t look impressed. “The sun has already gone down. Visiting hours are over.”

Mama’s life tree was at the center of M’s capital, surrounded by tall buildings but never overshadowed by them. Many people from M made a yearly journey from the furthest reaches to pay their tributes, bring their sick children, and praying for various things. The life tree was such a large draw that in recent years there’d been visiting hours implemented. At night the tree was left alone, and for the most part everyone seemed to respect that.

“But I could get a special pass to be near enough to the life tree to touch her, if you were with me. You’re the prince. You have all the pull in the world.”

“I don’t have time to go waste by praying at a tree,” came the immediate protest.

Carefully, Lay said, “Your father is going to survive the night. That isn’t in question and you don’t need to be here for him to sleep through to the morning. You should reconsider coming with me, not just so I can get past security without a fuss.”

“I’ll get you clearance,” the prince promised. “I need to be here.”

“To pace the hallways? To wait for news that probably won’t come until morning, if it comes at all?”

“I don’t believe in--”

“But,” Lay cut in, trying to keep his voice even. “The question isn’t whether you believe that praying will help. The fact is, Luhan would believe. And if you were the one missing, he’d be at Mama’s life tree right now, praying for your return. Neither would it matter to him if you believed that praying would help.”

In an irritated tone, the prince said, “I hate it when you make sense like this.”

Lay smiled victoriously. “We’ll go just for a few hours.”

“Hours,” the prince deadpanned.

“We’ll go find Chen first,” Lay decided happily. “I have no doubt he’s under strict orders from Tao not to let anything happen to you. He’ll most certainly be coming with us.”

“Praying,” Chen said flatly after they’d already left the palace, a couple of additional guards discreetly shadowing them as they took a transport directly to Mama’s life tree. “We’re going for praying?” 

“I know,” the prince eased out, sharing a sympathetic look with Chen.

“Very funny,” Lay forced. “You both seem to forget that we barely understand Mama in the first place. We don’t know why some of us have abilities and some are completely normal. Aside from Luhan and a few others, we don’t have the kind of connection to her spirit that we desperately need to understand these things. So why go making fun of praying when we don’t really know enough to form a conclusive decision.”

Chen shrugged. “You can’t make a believer out of me, Lay.”

“I know,” Lay said with a sigh. “But I’m daring to venture his highness isn’t as hopeless as you are.”

They reached Mama’s life tree fifteen minutes later and as expected, the area was perfectly quiet and deserted. There were a few volunteer night watchmen on duty, but for the most part they had complete privacy. 

Chen was trailing behind them, less attentive than he should have been, while Lay hopped over one of the fences to toe off his shoes and put his feet bare against the soil surrounding the life tree’s roots.

“What’re you doing?” Chen asked Lay, moving to the prince’s side with a lazy hand on his sword. 

“Luhan isn’t the only one with a connection to Mama,” he called over his shoulder. He wiggled his toes in the dirt and grinned up at the massive tree. “When I’m this close to the life tree, I can feel this odd buzzing under my skin. It fades fast if I go more than a few yards away, but standing right here, I can feel Mama’s spirit racing through my body. It’s amazing.”

It was something he’d discovered through pure chance, accompanying Luhan one morning to visit the life tree. Luhan often came to visit the life tree, and Lay suspected it was due in part to the tree being the one destination that the prince couldn’t stop him from going to at any time of his choosing. Luhan claimed he could feel Mama’s sprit at any time, but that it was the strongest when he was in direct contact with her life tree. Lay had only been following after Luhan out of curiosity when he realized the buzzing for what it was.

“I don’t feel anything,” the prince relayed almost disappointedly as he joined Lay. “Mama must not think I’m very interesting.”

“Maybe too stern for her likes,” Chen teased lightly. “Your highness, I mean, look at Luhan’s personality. Maybe Mama has a thing for the adorable, energetic type. Who doesn’t have a thing for Luhan’s big, sparkling eyes?”

Lay told Chen venomously, “The next time you hurt yourself goofing around with Tao, I’m going to let you wail in pain for a while before I heal you.”

Just as Chen made to respond, the shaking started. 

“What’s going on?” the prince demanded, whirling around.

“Earthquake!” Lay shouted as Chen drew his sword. “Chen?”

The rumbling of the ground was so fierce that Lay and the prince staggered for a few moments before falling. Only Chen kept his feet under him, holding his sword expertly in one hand while the threat of lightening lit up the air around them. “It might not just be an earthquake! Stay down! Both of you!”

Lay shimmied his way over to the prince. Once he had a firm grip on the older male’s sleeve, his tipped his head up to look at Mama’s life tree. The branches were shaking violent and her roots were rolling across the ground. There was something horrific about the sight. 

They didn’t have any ground shakers. At least Lay didn’t think so. So if someone with an ability wasn’t causing the earthquake, it was something much worse.

Then slowly, excruciatingly, the ground began to settle.

“Are you two okay?” Chen asked, still tense, looking every bit the warrior he was.

“I’m okay,” the prince said, letting Lay help him up to his feet. “What was that? An earthquake?”

Lay nodded shortly. “It’s the third one this week alone.” When Lay had been a child, back when M and K had simply been Exo, there’d always been earthquakes to the north. They’d come a couple times a year, lasting a few seconds. Occasionally there’d be an injury, but for the most part they were of no concern. Now they came two or three a week, lasting for ages and killing. 

“Again?” Chen eased out, nodding firmly to the rest of the prince’s guard who had rushed to their location. “You said third, Lay?”

Lay’s head fell back again and he couldn’t help gazing up at the magnificent tree above him. “Three, Chen, and the week isn’t done yet. Something is very wrong for us to be experiencing these with such frequency.”

The prince laid a hand on one of the life tree’s upturned roots. “It’s not just the earthquakes, either. There have been freak wind storms, torrential rainfall, and many, many others. The elements are out of control. Nature is … not what it should be.”

Lay demanded, “Didn’t Luhan warn us something was wrong? Isn’t this proof enough?”

The prince argued back, “Luahn suspects there’s a problem, but he doesn’t have any proof. And apparently every time Mama tries to tell him what the problem is, he has a seizure and you have to get him breathing again. Excuse me if I don’t care about finding out why this is happening if that is the result.”

“But there’s no denying it,” Lay said a bit weakly. “Our world is falling apart around us, and I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse.”

What more could pile upon them? How much more could they withstand before they were overtaken?

Looking nervous, Chen said, “We should get back. The earthquake will have upset people. They’ll be worried and I think a lot of them are going to try and come here for some kind of reassurance. We shouldn’t be here when that happens.”

The prince nodded in agreement. “I want to get back to the palace and wait for the incoming damage reports. I’m sorry, Lay. I know you wanted to pray for Luhan for a while, but I think he’d understand.”

Lay was about to ask for permission to stay behind and deal with any crowd that arose on his own when he felt the familiar tingling under his fingers. He looked down to realize he was still holding onto one of the life tree’s roots. 

He’d never tried to use his healing ability on the life tree. He’d never had a reason to.

But he was feeling the urge, and it was the kind of compulsion he only felt when he was in contact with someone who was injured. 

“Wait,” Lay called out to them, sucking in air. “I think I can--”

He was cut off violently as his ability manifest and he linked himself to the life tree. All at once he felt Mama, like he’d never felt her sprit before. He felt her in his heart, in his soul, and she began to overload his body.

He could feel her pain, dark and pulsing and rampant. Her desperation coursed through him, as if it were his own emotion, and he knew instantly that she was in pain. She was hurting, in need of healing, but there was no way Lay was strong enough for the task. 

She was constantly being hurt. The pain was growing. It was gaining momentum and the damage left behind was …

“Lay! Can you hear me? Lay!”

Lay opened his eyes. 

“Are you okay? Don’t move!”

Chen was above him, and so was the prince, and they were both shouting at him to remain still, and telling him he was going to be okay. It took him a second more to realize that they looked so odd to him because he was laying flat on his back and they were bent over him.

“I’ve called for a physician,” the prince promised, looking concerned in the way that he usually only was for Luhan. “You can’t heal yourself, right?” 

Heal? Lay didn’t think he could even move.

Chen knelt down to him, equal parts concerned and terrified. “Lay, can you even hear me? If you can, I promise, it’s going to be okay. You had a fit of some kind. Sort of like the seizures Luhan has. It stopped when we pulled you away from the life tree, but you’re bleeding and you need to stay still.”

Lay could feel the blood on the skin underneath his nose, and he could taste it at the back of his throat, threatening to choke him.

“Chen,” he gasped out, feeling the man take his hand in a firm grip. “What … I …”

“Don’t talk,” Chen chided. 

Above the both of them, the prince frowned somewhat awkwardly. “Did you see something? Lay? Did you have a vision?”

“Mama,” Lay managed with a shuddering breath. He couldn’t feel his toes. His pulse was beating in his head painfully. He couldn’t even remember what he’d been doing five minutes ago, or why he was looking up at Mama’s life tree from a very unflattering position on the ground. “She’s … Chen. Mama is dying.”

“Did you say dying?” Chen asked for clarification, looking then to the prince. “Did he just say dying? Mama is dying?”

A chill raced its way through Lay and then everything was going black.


	7. D.O.

There was utter chaos around him, and D.O. felt completely in the way.

Across the war room, with people streaking about, shouting at each other, and relaying information, Suho was commanding absolute authority. He demanded from one of the nearby officers, “Get me that time estimate on the western zone! I want to know exactly how much time we have before the next city is hit, and if we have time to mobilize any of our special units in the area!”

“Commander!” Baekhyun shouted, catching Suho’s attention from his position over at a communications terminal. His voice was loud, louder than D.O. had ever heard him be, and that alone spoke volumes to the mess they were in. In fact D.O. wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Baekhyun get worked up over something other than Chanyeol.

“What is it?” Suho demanded.

Baekhyun held up a tablet and said, “I have the first official count of M troops. It’s been verified, Commander.” Not bothering with any secrecy, not in a room with everyone at the very top level of information, Baekhyun began relaying, “Five hundred M troops are near our western zone with at least a dozen specials in their ranks. There are an additional two hundred troops moving along the coastline, and an even smaller group of twenty five heading straight for us. For the capital, sir. All confirmed.”

D.O. glanced between Suho and Baekhyun. Those numbers couldn’t be right. They’d been under a complete red alert for just over a day, their cold war going suddenly blazing hot with the sheer number of M troops moving over the boarder. There was no way that M had those kinds of numbers ready to go in such a short span, adding to the number of soldiers from M already in K’s territory. 

Suho was thinking the same thing, D.O. realized. And then the Commander said, “Five hundred, you said? That was the first number?”

“Five hundred,” Baekhyun said with a shaky nod. “And there are increased reports that there’s another group poised to cross the boarder before noon today. They look to be twice the number of what’s come across before.”

So this was an invasion. Well, it wasn’t that D.O. had ever doubted that they were being invaded, but it was completely different to think something, and then to know that death was marching towards them. D.O. knew it wouldn’t be long before Suho was ordering him to the front lines, and it was probably where he’d meet his death. D.O. was not so bold as to think he could take on the might of M and survive, not when M had more than enough soldiers to throw at them before they even unleashed their specials. 

At Baekhyun’s announcement, things quieted a little in the war room. The air turned tense around them and fear was on the rise.

“What about the twenty-five headed here?”

At that question, D.O. saw Baekhyun actually pause. 

Suho ground out, “Just say it, Baekhyun.”

“Yes, sir,” Baekhyun eased out. “The group of twenty-five, verified to be on a direct route to the capital, are assumed to be specials. They’re wearing M’s blue piping on the collars of their uniforms. Only their specials are designated in that way.”

D.O. took a step forward, his voice carrying out, “M has twenty-five specials to send our way?”

In the whole of M and K, each side only had around a hundred and fifty men and women with special abilities. Mama’s gifts were rarer than rare, and not everyone with gifts chose to join the military on either side. It seemed unreasonable that M could spare twenty-five of their elite to the capital. 

Suho turned back to D.O. and met his gaze. “Of course they do. If they strike us here, at the capital, they could effectively end the war in one felled swoop. They’re playing a tactical game with us, trying to use the other troops as a distraction.”

In agreement, Baekhyun said, “These twenty-five were spotted on accident, and just barely at that. A civilian reported the group to us. We wouldn’t have known about them until they were right at our front door, otherwise.”

D.O, argued, “But if they’ve had this tactic all along, why wait ten years to implement it? They could have ended this war a decade ago. Why did M wait until now? Did they really need a valid excuse to invade?”

Baekhyun made his way to D.O.’s side as the conversation kicked up around them once more, people going back to their tasks. 

“It’s a simple matter of economics,” Baekhyun explained to D.O.. “The war has been a boost to M’s economy. It’s produced a lot of jobs for them, boosted morale, strengthened their currency, and done just about everything opposite to what’s happened to us here in K. They’ve kept the war going because it’s a benefit to them. But eventually they must have known it had to come to an end, and they seem to be willing to risk everything on the gamble that they can take us down.”

Gruffly, Suho added in, “M is also a monarchy dictated by the people. The king has all the power, except if the people feel he doesn’t have their best interest at heart. They can call for a vote of no confidence, and if the pressure is there, the king might be asked to step aside to someone else in the royal line. I have no doubt the king kept the war going for so long because the people were enjoying the perks, and he didn’t want to be ousted in favor of his much younger, much more popular son.”

That had never made sense of D.O.. Why bother having a monarchy, and enforcing the superiority of that line, if the people could simply remove a monarch? Maybe it had more to do with giving the people the impression of power. D.O. didn’t think for one second that if the king was pulled from the throne, and the prince put in his place, that the king wouldn’t still be calling the shots.

More shouts came from the communications area of the war room, accounts of even more verified troops, and D.O. could see the reality of the situation starting to sink into Suho’s psyche.

“Baekhyun,” Suho said quietly, but D.O. was close enough to hear the conversation. “We have to stop those specials from getting to the capital. The people are going to come here, afraid to be out in the country by themselves, or along the boarder where a lot of the fighting is happening. We have to start pulling up our troop numbers to fight the incoming M soldiers, but we also need to defend this capital.”

Baekyhun tapped a few buttons on his pad. “Recent numbers estimate our levels at forty percent mobilization. We’re still waiting on many of our reserves to make it to their assigned posts and report for duty. Also, our turnout with the civilian population isn’t as high as we’d hoped it would be. I think a lot of them are under the impression that if they capitulate to M’s forces, they’ll be spared.”

D.O. said roughly, “I believe the neutral area should have taught them differently.”

With a firm hand to Baekhyun’s shoulder, Suho said, “I want you to coordinate personally the effort to split our troops between the warfront and the capital. You make the final call, Baekhyun, about who’ll be distributed where. You know the war better than anyone else. Myself included. This is the task for you.”

Looking a little pale, Baekhyun asked, “But what about you, sir?”

“I won’t have time to crunch numbers,” Suho said. “I’ll be going straight to the front.”

D.O. couldn’t help his burst of, “That’s too dangerous!” When he realized the intensity of his voice, he quieted, but pressed, “Commander Suho, we can’t risk you on the frontlines. You should be here, in the capital, protected.”

“Protected,” Suho snorted. “I don’t need to be protected, and it’s an insult of a thought when I think about our men and women who are out there right now dying.”

“But they’re not nearly as important as you,” D.O. said without compromise. “Baekhyun and I understand, and so does everyone else in this room, that some people are more important than others. I could die tomorrow and you’d be down a solider, but it wouldn’t be the same if you were the one to die. This resistance can’t go on without you.” 

Especially since Suho had yet to name is successor. Unlike Suho, who’d been clearly next in line when the previous commander had been killed, there were several people vying for the position after Suho. D.O. himself knew that he could be considered a candidate, not that he had any interest in the post.

Suho’s successor, in all honestly, should have been Baekhyun. Baekhyun was smart--brilliant even, and could think circles around them all. He was a strategist, calm and collected, and had all the traits that a good commander needed. Except he wasn’t an officer. He was situated in a non-combative position and there was no budging him. That ruled him out right away.

D.O. just didn’t know why Baekhyun was so adamant about the situation. Chanyeol was likely the only person who did have some sort of clue as to why Baekhyun refused to become an officer. Maybe Suho did, as well, but it was too hard to tell. Baekhyun and Suho had the relationship of loyal friends, but nothing was certain.

Still, if something did happen to Suho, and K needed to forge on, it was possible that Baekhyun could contest the requirement of active military duty in a combative position. He had more than enough experience at war, even if he hadn’t been personally fighting. 

“I will be with my soldiers,” Suho said, leaving no room for mistaking his intentions. “But even I realize that more than being your Commander, I’m a figurehead. The people need to look to me for guidance, and they’ll seek security in knowing I’m out there, doing what I can. Doing my best. I won’t put myself in harms way any more than I can avoid, but even so, I have to go.”

“I have to protest,” Baekhyun insisted. “You can maintain a base of operations here, sir, without compromising your ability to keep control of our troops on the battle field.”

An alarm blared behind them, but D.O. couldn’t recall what it was for. He was also too engrossed in the conversation in front of him to pay it much mind. It seemed like a new alarm was going off every fifteen minutes.

“Do you think those twenty-five specials heading our way are coming to take the capital building?” Suho asked Baekhyun. “No. Of course not. They’re coming to kill me, because I’m K’s commander, I have a dangerous ability, and without me our people will lose hope.”

D.O. frowned. “But do you really think that if you leave the capital, that they’ll divert?”

For the first time D.O. saw what looked to be the tiniest of smiles grace Suho’s face. “I don’t know,” the man answered honestly. “But it’s a hunch I have, and I’ll take any chance I can to keep at least some of our people clear from the danger.”

With a sigh, D.O. asked, “What about me? I haven’t received any official orders yet.”

It was foolish to think that he wasn’t being assigned to a position because Suho was giving him leeway with Kai. 

D.O. was still determined to find out what had happened to his best friend. It had been days now since D.O. had lost contact with him, and the chances of finding him alive and well were dwindling. He needed to start his search as soon as possible, but the invasion had mucked up all his plans.

Once in a while, oddly enough usually when Kai was involved, D.O. felt like an ass. This was one such moment. K was being invaded. People were dying around them. And D.O. wanted to abandon the war to go hunt down his best friend who had likely been the cause of very invasion itself. Ass felt like too kind a word.

With a side look to Baekhyun, Suho said, “I had Chanyeol stationed at one of our more accessible military bases not far from the neutral area. There are a lot of civilians reporting to that base, and I need someone with an ability there to protect it. And them.”

D.O. arched an eyebrow. “You had Chanyeol there?”

Suho did not look pleased as Baekhyun cut in smoothly, “He’s on special assignment right now, doing something that could potentially change the outcome of the war. It’s essential that he stay where he is.”

“Where Chanyeol is isn’t your concern right now,” Suho said, rubbing his brow in annoyance. “I’ll deal with him later. But for now you’ll take his orders as your own, and protect both that base and our civilian volunteers.”

That was that, D.O. supposed. He had to do what he was told, especially in light of the invasion, and there was no way he could do anything about Kai. 

“I understand,” D.O. said, trying not to sound sullen.

“D.O.” Suho said, surprising him with the regret in his voice. “I know you wanted to search for Kai. I know what he means to you. Ka is important to me, too. But we have to recognize what our priorities are.”

Standing up straighter, willing himself to remain strong, D.O. gave a nod. “I’ll go and get ready to leave.”

D.O. left the war room quickly, side stepping a young officer who was nearly running to get through the doorway, shouting Suho’s name and waving a pad.

The mood outside the room was only slightly better. There was no shouting, and no talk of confidential information, but the people that D.O. passed all had a scared glint in their eyes, and they rushed along with shoes clicking on tiled floors. Some even looked to be evacuating, not that D.O. thought there was anywhere safe left to go. 

Except …

There was one, long curve of land far out west, mostly uninhabited and completely void of technology. Those people, their number under a thousand, lived free from technology, and isolated from the rest of Exo. As far as safe places went, that island was probably the last place that M was looking to invade, but the inhabitants were fiercely protective over their limited space and rarely let outsiders in. 

With a sigh, D.O. abandoned that idea and headed home.

Home was a small, single occupant room that D.O. had shared with Kai for years. They could have had their own space, and some times it desperately felt like they needed it, but ultimately they shared comfort in being so close. Neither did either of them have many personal belongings to take up space. 

When the door to his quarters opened with a quick push he made his way over to the small closet without delay, bringing a small bag with him. He didn’t have much to begin with, but neither did he think he needed to take a lot. He didn’t expect to occupy Chanyeol’s position for long.

Suho said that the base was out of the way, located near the neutral area, and far away from where M’s attention was turned. It was extremely unlikely they’d revisit the area again quickly, not with their eyes set on the capital. But the base was the central hub for civilians looking to militarize. Eventually M would realize that some of the new forces they were coming up against, a handful of them with abilities, were being routed through the base.

It was inevitable that D.O. would shortly find himself locked in combat with some of M’s soldiers, powered or not. He’d defend the base until his dying breath, but even D.O. wasn’t brave enough to think that he had a chance if he was matched up against more than one opponent with Mama’s gift.

“D.O.”

At the familiar voice D.O. turned sharply, dropping his bag to the floor and spinning to see a pale, sweaty, shaking Kai collapsed against the bed. He hadn’t been there a second before.

“Kai!”

D.O. dashed to his side, tugging him into a sharp hug as relief flooded his body.

“Not so hard,” Kai breathed out harshly, looking like he might faint at any second.

“Where have you been?” D.O. demanded, unable to help himself as he hugged Kai a second time. Part of him had truly believed, but never dared to admit, that he might never see Kai again. “What the hell happened? And please tell me Suho is wrong in believing that you’re responsible for kidnapping the cousin of M’s prince!”

“Stop,” Kai groaned out, protesting the sharpness of D.O.’s voice. He pushed weakly at D.O. and then found himself tipping to the side, eyes closing. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

He wasn’t, but D.O. knelt by his side for a few moments with their trash bin just incase.

Then, when Kai looked just a little bit more steady, but certainly not recovered, D.O. repeated, “Where have you been?”

Kai cracked his eyes open, allowing D.O. to pull him up to a seated position. “Something bad happened, D.O..”

“I know,” D.O. grit out. “You stupidly decided kidnapping the guy who’s supposed to marry M’s prince was a good idea. Have you lost your mind completely?”

“Luhan,” Kai croaked out.

Trying to be patient, D.O. nodded. “That’s his name. Or was. We’re not sure.”

“What?” Kai grimaced but got his hands on either side of himself and sat more confidently. 

“The prince’s cousin?” D.O. prompted. “He’s missing. How do you not know this? You apparently kidnapped him out of his very bedroom. There were witnesses, but I’m guessing by the fact that you’re here alone that you don’t have him. Did you put him somewhere? Please tell me he’s still alive.”

Kai argued, “I didn’t put him anywhere. And I didn’t kidnap him. I was trying to save his life. His own dumb bodyguard would have killed him, albeit accidentally.”

D.O. took a seat next to Kai. “What do you mean you didn’t kidnap him?”

With a knowing look of shame, Kai admitted, “Luhan and I have been … involved in a relationship for a while now. I used to visit him when his overbearing pig of a cousin would let him leave the palace, and when that stopped happening as frequently, he smuggled me into the palace so I could learn the layout of his bedroom and be able to teleport there whenever it was safe.”

D.O. leaned over and with a vicious flick to Kai’s forehead, shouted, “You are the stupidest, most thoughtless man I have ever come across in my life. An affair with the prince’s cousin? The engaged prince’s cousin? What the hell were you thinking?”

Kai rubbed his forehead. “I was thinking that he’s amazing, D.O.. He’s nothing like his cousin or those pompous, entitled bastards in M. He could be one of us easy, he was just born in the wrong half of Exo. He’s smart and compassionate and funny and absolutely gorgeous? Have you seen him? He’s beautiful.”

“I’ll flick you again,” D.O. threatened, not without seriousness to the threat. What the hell had Kai been thinking? Having a tryst with someone was perfectly acceptable, or maybe even expected, but never with someone from M. And certainly not with the person who was expected to get married to M’s prince. That was the kind of taboo that was unforgivable, especially in a time of war. “You idiot.”

Kai rushed to say, palming at the sweat on his forehead, “He was dreaming about me. And I mean for a long time, D.O.. Luhan has those kinds of dreams about people frequently. Prophetic to a fault. He was dreaming about me and the kind of relationship we’d have back when you and I were just entering the military. Years before I actually met him. So when he told me about them, I was curious about him. Our friendship just sort of happened, and we were attracted to each other from the start.”

“He’s someone completely unavailable to you!”

Kai chuckled. “He made himself available.”

“I can’t believe you.” D.O. surged to his feet. “We are being invaded right now! M has already marched more than five hundred soldiers across our boarders, completely wiped the neutral area off the face of the planet, and they’re on their way now to kill us all. Because they think you kidnapped Luhan! Where have you been all this time? How could you just sit back with your play thing and let this happen?”

This wasn’t like Kai at all. D.O. knew that love changed a person, but he’d honestly believed that Kai was above something so petty. To give up all his responsibilities and honor for the sake of a pretty face?

“What?” For the first time Kai looked completely serious. “What’s happening?”

D.O. tapped the communication device fitted into his ear and contacted Baekhyun. As expected, the man was too busy to pick up and the call went directly to a message system, to which D.O. said tersely, “Baekhyun, when you get this you need to come with Suho to my quarters right away. I have Kai with me right now. I’m trying to figure out where he’s been, but he doesn’t have Luhan with him and our problems are likely about to get even worse.” There’d be no point in trying to get in contact with Suho. The man never picked up his calls. Apparently that was what Baekhyun was for. 

“We are being invaded,” D.O. said once again. “Now tell me how you didn’t kidnap Luhan.”

Slowly, and with some effort, Kai explained, “I was visiting him. We were caught by one of his bodyguards. I tried to teleport away--I had my lock, but Luhan got in the way, and I was being attacked all at the same time. If I hadn’t taken him with me, he would be dead and we’d really have an incident. But D.O., I lost my lock. I teleported on instinct when I lost my lock.”

D.O. couldn’t help drawing in a surprised breath. By all accounts Kai shouldn’t have even been alive. The lock was more important to a teleporter than anything else. Without a clear picture of the destination that they were teleporting to they could end up anywhere. Or nowhere at all. Lost forever.

“Where did you end up?” D.O. pressed. 

“Near the coast,” Kai answered. “Where we used to go as kids. I think my mind brought me there as a failsafe to try and protect me. I must have been laying on the beach for a day before I woke up, and when I realized Luhan wasn’t with me, I panicked.”

D.O. could only sense the truth from Kai, and he was very good at reading his best friend. Plus, there was no reason for Kai to lie to him. “Why didn’t you come here right away?”

Kai’s naturally tan skin seemed to pale even further. “I couldn’t.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t?”

There was a beeping in D.O.’s ear, probably Baekhyun returning his call, but he ignored it. Kai was more important, and Baekhyun would come seek him out in a few moments, anyway.

Eyes to the floor, Kai looked pained as he admitted, “I couldn’t teleport. Every time I tried, I started to feel really sick. I couldn’t get a lock in my mind, and I was afraid I’d kill myself trying to get here. It took me this long just to make this one trip, and I feel like my head might explode. Or something worse.” Kai gestured down to his spent body. “I feel like I’ve just been in the worst fight of my life.”

“Do you think you damaged your ability somehow?” D.O. asked curiously. Some of them, the people with Mama’s gifts, were defined by their abilities. D.O. was proud of his ability to manipulate the ground underneath him, but it wasn’t something he relied on. And outside of battle, it was an ability that was mostly forgotten. The same couldn’t be said for Kai. Kai was the type to teleport from their room to the mess hall simply for the exercise of it, and because he claimed to like the rush he got when he used his ability. 

Kai wouldn’t be the same if his ability made him weak and vulnerable, or if he couldn’t use it at all. 

“You look sick,” D.O. observed, pressing the back of his hand against Kai’s forehead. “We should get you to the hospital. You look like you can barely stand.”

“No,” Kai snapped, batting D.O.’s hand away. “Where’s Luhan? What happened to him?”

It made D.O. feel useless to not have any answers for him. “We don’t know. The prince of M issued a statement to Suho not that long ago claiming that you’d kidnapped him and that if you didn’t return him in less than a day they’d start invading. We couldn’t find you, we couldn’t find Luhan, and now we’re days away from having M soldiers step foot in our capital.”

Kai thrust a hand out to D.O. roughly, demanding, “Help me up.”

“I hardly think you should be getting up,” D.O. scoffed.

In a rebellious show, Kai struggled to his own feet, claiming, “Fine. I don’t need your help.”

“To do what, exactly?”

D.O. knew the look on Kai’s face. His friend was about to go do something stupid again. 

“I’m going to find Luhan,” Kai declared.

D.O. gave Kai a shove, barely exerting any pressure at all. Kai flopped back on the bed anyway, exhaling loudly with a yell. “You are not,” D.O. thundered. “We don’t even know if he’s alive.”

“I know he’s alive,” Kai spat out. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s strong. He’s resilient. And it doesn’t matter where he ended up in K, he’ll be okay until I can get to him. I promised him if he was ever in trouble, I would come for him. I think this counts.”

Heavy pounding thudded against D.O.’s door as he told Kai, “Chances are, he isn’t even alive. You know as well as I do that it’s a fluke you survived losing your lock. He probably wasn’t that lucky. He could have ended up in space for all we know, or in a million pieces at the bottom of the ocean!”

D.O. threw open the door and Suho charged in, Baekhyun on his heels.

Heavily, D.O. sank onto the bed, his ears already aching as Suho began yelling. 

It was another five minutes before the situation had been explained to Suho and Baekhyun. By then Kai was frailly leaning against the bed’s pillows and D.O. was starting to feel protective over him. 

“He said he didn’t kidnap the prince’s cousin,” D.O. told Suho. “Stop making him repeat that part.”

“You don’t even speak,” Suho rounded on him, madder than D.O. had ever seen him. “You knew he was seeing someone, likely someone he wasn’t supposed to be. If you had come to me with that information right away, we could have avoided this whole situation.”

D.O. barked out a laugh. “There’s no way we could have made Kai stop sneaking into Luhan’s bedroom. Not now that he’s in love with him.”

Suho didn’t look excited at the mention of love, but Kai spoke up, “I do love him. I’m in love with him. Nothing you could have said would have made me stop. We knew the risks.”

“No!” Suho grabbed him roughly by the front of his shirt, “you understood the risk to your life if you were caught. You didn’t’ stop to think for half a second, too busy fulfilling your urges, to realize how something could happen to K if anything went wrong with Luhan. We’ve never targeted the prince’s cousin for a reason, you brainless, inconsiderate ant!”

His voice the epitome of calm, Baekhyun told Kai, “In the end, it doesn’t even matter if you kidnapped the prince’s cousin or not. M thinks you did, and there’s no evidence, other than your word, to prove otherwise. They’ve invaded us, more troops are coming in daily, and it is your fault.”

Reeking of regret, Kai said, “I am truly sorry this happened, but I won’t be sorry for my relationship with Luhan. I won’t say I’d take it back if I could, and I’m going to find him.”

“You can’t even get off the bed,” Suho said dismissively. He ran his hands through his hair almost frantically and said, “I should throw you to the wolves. Maybe the prince would think about pulling his troops out if I gave you to them with a decent apology.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened. “I don’t think, sir, that would quite do the trick.”

The edge to Suho’s words were real, but their content wasn’t. D.O. knew better. Despite the mess that Kai had gotten them into, Suho would never give up someone he cared for, not when he was surely sentencing them to death and for nothing in return. M was already knee deep in their country and they wouldn’t be stopping until they either had what they wanted, or were pushed back. Giving Kai to them would achieve nothing except getting him killed, and they still needed him. 

“We were going to stop,” Kai offered softly, hurt etched across his voice. “Luhan was supposed to marry the prince sooner than we thought, and I wasn’t going to keep pursuing him after he was married. I love him very much, but I was going to give him up. The night that I lost my lock and we were almost killed, that was going to be the last time I came to him.”

“Maybe,” Baekhyun wondered, “we could contact K. If we tell them that we have Kai, and therefore Luhan, we may be able to manipulate them to our advantage.”

“We’d have to take responsibility for the kidnapping then,” Suho reasoned.

D.O. added quickly, “We might have Kai, but we don’t have Luhan. We don’t even know where to start looking for him.”

“No,” Baekhyun agreed, “But we do have a chameleon at our disposal. We could fake having Luhan in our custody, and with any luck trick M out of our country.”

Suho ticked off his fingers, “The prince might be a petty, arrogant man, but he’s not stupid. He’ll want proof. He’ll ask our chameleon something that only his cousin would know. And furthermore, what would we do after M has agreed to pull out and we’re left with no hand to play? They’d be back in half a day and they would bring down even more havoc than they are now.”

Baekhyun said, “That’s not also the biggest flaw in my plan. K has cut all communications with us. We can’t contact them directly and our messages to them are being bounced back immediately. We’d have to be able to get through to them before anything else.” Baekhyun looked crestfallen. “Sorry. That was the best plan I could think of.”

Folding his hands over his stomach, Kai told the three men next to him, “I’m still having trouble getting a lock in my mind. And when I do manage it, it’s hard to hold onto it. Teleporting here almost killed me, at least it felt that way.”

“All the more reason for you to just lay there and think about the lives you’ve cost us,” Suho lectured. “You’re of no use now.”

Kai cleared his throat. “What I’m saying is that it’s hard, but I can still get a lock. And it’s easier to lock into the places that I’ve been before, with a lot of frequency. Like Luhan’s room in the palace. I’m pretty sure I could make it there without blowing myself to pieces.”

D.O. deadpanned, “How would that come close to being a good idea?”

“Because,” Kai said, and D.O. could tell Suho was at least a little interested, “You can’t get in contact with the prince or M directly to try and convince him that we aren’t responsible for Luhan’s disappearance …at least not for kidnapping him. But I can.”

“You can get yourself killed,” Suho corrected. “They’ll kill you the second you’re seen. No doubt they have your face memorized. There will be not doubt as to who you are and what your crime is. You won’t get two feet from where you teleport to.”

Kai reasoned, “The whole reason this invasion happened is because the prince’s cousin was supposedly kidnapped by me. We obviously know I didn’t do it, but this just proves how much the prince cares about Luhan.”

D.O. found himself shaking his head. No idea going down this route could be good. And he’d just gotten Kai back. He refused to lose him again.

“I hate that smarmy prince with every fiber of my being,” Kai said, “but even I can’t deny how much he loves Luhan. There probably isn’t anything he won’t do for him. He invaded a country for him. He must be just as desperate to find Luhan as I am, maybe even more because I know what happened and he doesn’t. If I go to him and I tell him what happened, and vow to find Luhan and bring him back no matter what, we might have a chance of stalling out this invasion.”

Suho’s head cocked. “Did losing your lock during teleportation completely fry your brain?”

D.O. offered, “It’s debatable whether his brain was fried before that.”

“I’m being serious,” Kai argued at the both of them. “I’m a teleporter. I can get out of there if he tries to kill me. But I have a feeling that he’ll want to know what happened to Luhan a lot more than he’ll want to kill me. I know it’s a risk. I know it’s a stupid plan. But it’s all we have and if there’s a chance in hell it’ll work, don’t we have to try?”

It must have killed a part of Kai to propose such an action. It was beyond evident to D.O. that Kai wanted nothing more than to hunt down the man he claimed to love. In fact, if he hadn’t been in so much pain and so exhausted, there was a chance Kai might have already gone off on his wild goose chase. But even if the plan sounded stupid, Kai wasn’t being selfish in proposing it, and there was something to be said for that. 

Baekhyun tapped a few patterns out on his pad. “You can’t teleport without ending up like this. How are you going to make it all the way to M? And what if the prince attacks you, which is surely will? It seems ridiculous to assume that you’d be capable of making it to safety. How many words could you get out before he killed you?”

Kai rolled to his side. “The prince’ ability is flight. What is he going to do? Fly at me really fast?”

“Possibly,” Baekhyun said without humor. “But his dragon might rip you to shreds. There’s that to consider.”

“Oh,” Kai eased out. “I forgot about the dragon.”

Baekhyun said, “Just because the prince doesn’t let it out often, doesn’t mean it isn’t deadly. At the sight of the person who stole his cousin from him, it would be understandable that he might demolish half the palace with his dragon trying to take you out.”

Kai pushed himself up to his elbows. “I get that, Baekhyun. But I still think it’s worth a shot.”

D.O. watched Suho shake his head. “Even if you were able to overpower the prince long enough to make him listen to what you wanted to say, aren’t you forgetting the time manipulator?”

D.O.’s own memory called up a picture of the stern faced bodyguard that followed the prince everywhere. Tao was beyond deadly, and took no chances with the prince’s life. Kai might have had a chance facing down the prince, but not Tao. In fact the only person that D.O. would put money on winning against Tao, would probably be Suho. Suho had the strongest ability with the best control out of everyone in K. 

“I’m going,” Kai stated. “I might be weak right now. I might just get myself killed. But I’m going. I’m going to try and make this right. And if I survive, the next thing I’m doing is going to find Luhan.” D.O. watched the defiance in Kai’s eyes as he stated, “I know this means you’ll have to discharge me for going against your orders. I understand that I’ll be dishonorably discharged, and if I return to K I may even face criminal charges. But Suho, I am going.”

In a sudden move Suho knelt down to Kai’s level, covering his nearby hand. “Please rethink this. If you stay here you can help us fight K. If you go you’ll be signing your death warrant. I won’t be able to help you, there’s no protection I can extend to you, and you’re effectively tying my hands.”

Kai nodded shakily. “I’m fully aware of everything that can and might happen. I accept it.”

Dead silence mucked up the air in the room.

“Sometimes I really regret being your friend,” D.O. said, watching Kai flinch away from him. 

“D.O.,” Kai whined out. 

D.O. ignored Kai, turning instead to Suho. “I’m going with him. If he doesn’t get us killed transporting over there, he’ll have a better chance of explaining things to the prince if I keep Tao distracted. I’ll act as a buffer for as long as I can.”

“You can’t,” Kai protested.

“I can do what I want,” D.O. shot back, “just like you seem to do. So be quiet and let me tell you, we have never not had each other’s backs. We came to the military together. We fought in the war together. We cover for each other and comfort each other, and even if you didn’t trust me with Luhan, I trusted you enough to keep your secret. It bit us in the ass, and part of me guessed it would from the start, but I still kept it. So if you’re going to go off and get yourself killed, then I will be there with you to the end. And you will not tell me otherwise. Do you understand?”

Wordlessly, Kai nodded.

Suho offered to D.O., “If you go with him, it won’t only be Kai who loses his status and position in the military. You have more promise in an officer than I’ve seen in a long time, D.O.. I know you want to protect him, but you should be completely aware of what you’re doing.”

It was no easy decision, but then again, nothing with Kai ever was.

“I do,” D.O. assured him. “And this is what I’m choosing to do. Plus, what happens if I let him go off on his own and nothing comes of it? I’ll be dead in less than a week anyway when K gets here. This is a good shot, even if it’s a stupid one.”

Baekhyun added, “I’ll be in the war room, monitoring for incoming calls. If you get through to the prince, you contact us right away. I’ll be waiting.”

“Come on.” D.O. offered a hand down to Kai. “We don’t exactly have time for you to rest and get your strength back, do we?”

Kai accepted the hand, telling him, “Luhan was always very careful not to give too much away about the palace. I think even though he trusted me, he wanted to be extra careful. But there’s a passage that runs from Luhan’s bedroom to the prince’s. Luhan told me they’d use it when they were kids to sneak into each other’s rooms when they were scared or lonely. To the best of my knowledge, no one knows about that passage other than the prince and Luhan, and it hasn’t been used in years. If we go through it, we might actually be able to bypass Tao completely.”

D.O. let his fingers slide tightly through Kai’s. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Suho and Baekhyun took a step back form the pair, the commander imparting, “I can’t endorse this, your oath as officers demands that you stay here and this will be considered desertion. But personally I wish you all the luck in the world. Don’t screw this up, okay?”

“Yeah,” D.O. sighed out, giving Kai the go-ahead. “We’re going to need some luck. A lot of it, actually.”

Then they were gone.


	8. Xiumin

“Tao,” Xiumin said, voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t hesitate. Take them out the second you’re sure they’re clear of Luhan.”

The headlights of the adjacent vehicle were blinding, but Xiumin was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that these two men standing in front of him were cohorts of the monster who’d stolen Luhan from them. 

It was maybe a fluke that Xiumin had spotted the vehicle moving along the horizon, and it was even luckier that he’d been able to make out the unconscious form of Luhan in the passenger seat. It didn’t matter where they’d been taking him. Xiumin wasn’t about to let them get a foot further away.

“Why’re you in the way?” one of the men demanded, and he was clear of the vehicle a second later. Xiumin paid him no attention. He was young and likely not a threat.

The man by the driver’s side door called out, “Who are you? Why did you block us? What do you want?”

Xiumin’s gaze slid over to Tao a second later. It took a great amount of energy from Tao for him to harness his ability, and it wasn’t easy to draw up quickly. Xiumin knew he had to buy them some time, especially if Tao was going to extend his abilities to both the occupants, and not just one of them.

“You have something that belongs to us,” Tao called out. “And you’re going to pay for taking it in the first place.”

There was shuffling in the car as the driver’s side man took a deliberate foot forward. “I don’t know who you are, or what you think you’re doing, but you don’t know what you’re messing with.” Fire sparked along his hands, and it was clear to Xiumin in that second that he was about to face off against someone with Mama’s gift. There was also a chance the other, younger man was gifted as well.

“What’s going on?” Luhan called out, pulling himself from the vehicle.

“Luhan!” Xiumin called out.

The fire wielder turned back to Luhan and Xiumin made his move. With a running start he jetted forward, hurling ice at his opponent.

The man gave a fierce cry, bringing up his own ability, fire destroying Xiumin’s ice within seconds. “You don’t know what you’re messing with!” the man called out, more fire busting out and lighting up the area around them.

From the corner of Xiumin’s eye he could see Tao’s sword at the ready, the second man from the vehicle on a collision course with him, wind gusting around them, kicking up dust.

“He’s a wind manipulator, Tao!” Xiumin called back. “Watch out!” But it was too late, Tao was flipping head over heels, caught up in something more powerful than his center of gravity. 

A strong yell had Xiumin ducking to the side, rolling away from the searing heat. Instinctively he brought his hands up, doubling his efforts to impale his attacker with ice shards. He felt the moisture in the air a second later and pulled at it, pelting ice fragments down on the fiery man.

“Tao! Xiumin!” Luahn called out, clutching at the door handle to the vehicle, swaying on his feet. “Chanyeol! Sehun! All of you, stop it now!”

The fire user gave a strained cry of pain and lost his footing, one of Xiumin’s shards making contact. It was enough of an opening for Xiumin to go in for the kill. 

Xiumin didn’t like to think of himself as a monster. He had killed before, both to protect others and to protect himself. He’d killed because his king ordered him to, and because he thought it was the only option he had left. Killing was something he did. But he didn’t do it lightly and he always paid his resect to the life he’d taken.

There was, however, no doubt in his mind that he would kill to protect Luhan, and to recover him. He’d kill the fire user out of principle alone, to ensure that no other K soldier thought that Luhan was worth the risk. 

Some of the fire that was jumping from the man to the barren land around them, and the fringe was starting to catch fire. For an ice wielder like Xiumin, it was a kind of situation that was promising disastrous consequences. 

“Sehun!”

The fire user ducked away from Xiumin’s latest assault seconds before death, conjuring up a wall of flames, and then unpredictably, shooting them towards Tao. 

Then Xiumin saw why.

Tao had obviously caught the wind user in his time grip. He’d probably had just enough energy to hold one person out of time, and was winding his sword down in a move that would end the fight right then and there.

But the fire wielder was faster, and his arc of flames caught Tao off guard, sending him spinning to the side, losing his grip on time and bringing the wind user back to the present. 

“Stop it now!”

Everything lurched to the side. 

Xiumin found himself on his back, breath knocked from his chest, and something akin to a heavy weight pressing down on him. He couldn’t sit up, no matter how hard he tried, and he glanced around for Tao, wondering if the man was okay, and if this was some kind of secondary ability that one of these men had.

Or third. Because Xiumin now knew who the fire user was. It was Chanyeol, the man whom there’d been a capture or kill order out on for a little under a week. He was impressively powerful, and if Xiumin had been fighting to keep up with his fire, it was a miracle the phoenix hadn’t already been called up and decimated him. 

“I told you all to stop it.” Luhan was bent forward, gasping for breath, the only one of the five still standing. He was ashen looking, not that his pale complexion was something new, and his hands shook. “Stop fighting like animals. Stop trying to kill each other.”

“Luhan,” Xiumin groaned out. “Let me up.”

Luhan toppled forward, his hands barely catching him from landing completely against the ground. On his knees, with his head bowed down, he called to Xiumin, “I won’t. I won’t let any of you up until you promise to stop fighting.”

“Luhan!” Xiumin heard Tao call out. “His highness sent us.”

Something was obviously very wrong. Mama’s visions and communications left Luhan weak, sometimes severely so, but his telekinesis was another story altogether. Luhan had mastered his ability years ago and could use it freely for long periods of time before he felt any kind of strain. He shouldn’t have looked so close to fainting now, not exerting it over a scant four people. 

Xiumin used a burst of strength to flip onto his stomach and reached out for Luhan. “Are you okay? Luhan, let me up. Let me help you.”

Chanyeol looked to be viciously fighting against Luhan’s invisible hold, but it was the other boy, the unnamed one, that surprised Xiumin by calling out, “It’s because he’s so far away from Mama’s spirit. From her life tree! He told me she’s trying to communicate with him, but he’s too far away. It’s making him sick.”

“I’m fine,” Luhan snapped. “And none of you are getting up until I think you’re going to be able to control yourselves.”

On his side, Tao reasoned, “These people kidnapped you, Luhan. Or at the very least, they’re cohorts with the person who did. We’ve been sent here on a rescue mission. Let us up and we can take you home to his highness. We can take you home to the prince.”

Luhan’s bangs were sweaty, pressing to his forehead and his lips were colorless as he demanded, “Give me your word. Tao. Xiumin. Both of you. Give it to me and I’ll let you up.”

A sworn word … Xiumin could take nothing more serious, and knew that if he did give it, he couldn’t break it. He’d never have Luhan’s trust again if he did, and some things weren’t worth that. Most weren’t.

Tao looked obstinate at the prerequisite, but Xiumin could feel his own resolve crumbling until finally he said, “As long as I’m not attacked first, and required to defend myself, I won’t act as an aggressor. I won’t be the first to attack. You have my sworn word.”

Begrudgingly, as Xiumin was able to sit up, a little dazed, Tao offered his own oath. 

Making a mad dash to Luhan’s side, Xiumin’s feet slid across the tiny rocks littering the ground around them. He almost crashed into Luhan in his attempt to get to him, and then wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. He bent to Luhan’s ear and said, “I was so scared I’d lost you forever. I’m sorry.”

Luhan reached an arm up to hook around Xiumin. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I almost killed you,” Xiumin protested, shame flushing through him.

“Hey!” Chanyeol snapped. “What about me and Sehun? Let us up!”

Tao looked unimpressed as he kept his sword at the ready. “You aren’t from M. You have no idea what a sworn promise from one person to another means. Unlike you and your kind who break oaths all the time, the people of M value the trust placed in a promise. Xiumin and I have given our word to Luhan we won’t attack you first, and he understands the impact of that. Your word would mean nothing.”

The wind user kicked out angrily. “I never make promises I don’t plan to keep. You listen to me, asshole, you don’t get to think you’re better than us by standing there and sprouting off all your elitist bullshit. Chanyeol and I are just as trustworthy as you.”

“Then promise me,” Luhan said wearily, leaning on Xiumin. “Give me your word and then prove your honor by keeping it.”

“Fine,” Chanyeol grit out. “For right now, if you let Sehun and I up, we agree to a temporary truce.”

“Luhan,” Xiumin breathed out, petting a hand along the back of his head, watching with careful eyes as Chanyeol and Sehun sat up slowly. “What’s this about your connection with Mama?”

The rest of them stood around Xiumin and Luhan awkwardly as the elder boy explained, “I’ve never been this far from the life tree. I’ve never been this far from Mama’s spirit. She’s been trying to talk to me. She’s been trying to tell me something, but the distance is getting in the way. It’s … taxing. She’s straining herself, and me, by trying.”

Finally, Tao knelt down next to them. “The prince sent us here to recover you. We’re going to take you right back, straight to the life tree if that’s what you want. You don’t have to suffer anymore.”

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Luhan offered, his voice cracking. “It was an accident.”

Xiumin was loathed to admit it, but the teleporter had saved Luhan. The accidental loss of Luhan had rectified Xiumin’s mistake, but at a heavy cost. He barely trusted himself with Luhan anymore.

“Hey. Baozi.”

A finger poked at Xiumin’s cheek and he blushed. “Don’t call me that.” Especially not in front of other people who were both his peers and his enemies. The cute nickname that Luhan had called him as a child was fine between them in private, but Luhan knew how embarrassing it was for him when other people heard it. Xiumin certainly didn’t call Luhan Lulu anymore. They weren’t kids now.

“Baozi?” Chanyeol laughed out. 

Ice clung to Xiumin’s bangs. “You’re lucky my word means something.”

Luhan ignored Xiumin’s request and poked him again, saying, “Baozi. Stop blaming yourself.”

Xiumin squeezed his hand. “I almost killed you.”

“I got in the way,” Luhan explained away. “You weren’t purposely aiming for me, and I won’t sit here and let you feel sorry for something that isn’t your fault.”

“I should have been able to control my ability,” Xiumin protested. “It’s unacceptable that I wasn’t able to.”

Tao put a reassuring hand on Xiumin’s shoulder and offered, “From all accounts you had just woken. No one is in complete control of their ability seconds after waking. I don’t blame you. Luhan doesn’t blame you. The prince doesn’t blame you, either. So don’t blame yourself.”

Luhan cautioned, “There’s nothing attractive about you, baozi, when you’re being self deprecating. Stop it.”

Xiumin took a claming breath. “Okay.” He nodded over to Chanyeol and Sehun. “How did you end up with them? What happened to the guy who kidnapped you?”

Slowly, and with some help from Xiumin, Luahn stood. “I told you already, I wasn’t kidnapped. Let me tell you what happened.”

It was the abridged version, that was for sure, but each word Luhan said seemed less and less believable. Luhan in a relationship with a soldier from K? M’s sworn enemy? That wasn’t something that Luhan would do. Luhan was loyal to M.

When Xiumin told him his feelings, Luhan said angrily, “My love for Kai has nothing to do with my loyalty to M. I never told him anything important. I never divulged our secrets or gave him priority information. Furthermore, he never asked. He understood that what we had was separate from what was going on around us.”

“What about these two clowns?” Tao asked, pointing at Chanyeol and then Sehun.

“You’re right,” Sehun said, looking angrily at Tao. “Maybe you are better than us at keeping your word, because I’m about to blow you so far away from us that it’ll take days for you to crawl your way back.”

Luhan jabbed his own finger at Sehun. “You don’t even think about it, or you’ll be eating dirt. No one is attacking anyone.”

“Luhan,” Xiumin sighed out. “I know you like to make friends with everyone, but this is crossing the line.”

Defiantly, Luhan took a full step away from Xiumin. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Xiumin. Letting prejudices get in the way of your appreciation. If it wasn’t for Sehun I could be anywhere right now. Someone with less than pure intentions found me. Sehun rescued me, and he’s the one who convinced Chanyeol to get us transportation. Without either of them we wouldn’t be reunited and I could be in real trouble.”

“We are at war,” Xiumin said plainly. “I have a right to be discriminatory towards a people that consistently use underhanded tactics to strike out at M and her citizens.”

“Oh, please,” Sehun snorted. “We’re not the ones attacking innocent civilians. Children and the elderly, specifically. Why don’t you try pointing those underhanded fingers at yourselves. K fights fairly and cleanly. Don’t be petty or I might be willing to risk Luhan bitch-slapping me with his ability just so I can get a clean hit in on you.”

Pressing a wary hand to his forehead, Luhan snapped, “Go take a walk, Sehun. And don’t come back until you’re calm.”

Sehun muttered darkly, “You might be waiting a while,” then spun on heel and headed off.

In response to being left alone, Xiumin saw Chanyeol’s feet slide a bit more apart into a defensive position. 

“Xiumin,” Luhan said, reaching out for him and pressing their bodies so close that Xiumin was sure no one else could hear them. “I was alone and vulnerable when Sehun found me. He didn’t have to save me, or try to help me by brining me home. He chose to do it of his volition, fully understanding the dangers. I think he and a certain someone else are very firm proof that people from K are not inherently bad like the M propaganda machine would have everyone believe.”

Him. Luhan was referencing him, eluding to something Xiumin never tried to recognize. Xiumin had been born in the southern part of Exo, and had been a K citizen for some time when the war began. He hadn’t always been loyal to the king and it was a blemish on his record as far as he was concerned. The kind of blemish that no one needed to know ever.

Luhan only knew these kinds of things because Luhan ended up knowing everything all the time. 

“Fine,” Xiumin ground out. “Sehun can be your friend.”

“I hardly think I need your permission to make friends with Sehun, baozi.”

Xiumin hooked an arm around Luhan’s waist as his knees started to give out.

“We should go,” Tao said, his fingers cupping Luhan’s jaw. “Xiumin, he looks pretty bad. We need to get him back to the life tree, or at least to Lay.”

“Luhan,” Chanyeol broached, taking a cautious step forward. “These guys are your friends? You’ll be safe with them?”

Luhan gave a shallow nod. “Tao is my cousin’s fiercest protector, and Xiumin is my best friend. I trust them with my life.”

Chanyeol gave a look over his shoulder to where Sehun was slowly making his way back. The sun was completely gone and only the lights from the vehicles were lighting them at that point. 

“Then,” Chanyeol said, “if you’re safe, I’m going to take Sehun and go back. Your friend isn’t wrong about us being at war. We might be being civil to each other right now out of necessity, but a week from now we could be fighting each other again. We could be killing each other. I’m part of the military, Luhan. I’ve risked a lot bringing you out here, and so has Sehun as a civilian. We have to go back, and we can do that now with a clear conscience.”

“No,” Luhan said, surprising them all with the force of his voice. “You can’t go, Chanyeol.”

Xiumin mumbled into Luhan’s ear, “Don’t get yourself worked up. You’re shaking again.”

“You can’t go,” Luhan told Chanyeol firmly. “That’s not an option.”

Sehun wandered his way back to them, asking, “Where isn’t Chanyeol going?”

Chanyeol shrugged. “I’m not going home, I guess? Luhan, I have to go. I’m a member of the K military. I am the enemy of your country. I was never going to follow you all the way back to your palace and drop you off on the doorstep. Sehun and I were always going to take you to the edge of your territory, find you transportation further inland, and then leave.”

“You don’t understand,” Luhan stressed out.

“No. You don’t understand. There is a shoot on sight policy for anyone of K’s military who’s spotted on M soil. I like you, Luhan. You’re a nice guy, not at all what I expected from someone from M, but you’re not worth getting shot over. 

“I hate to agree with him about anything,” Xiumin offered, “but we can’t bring him back with us, Luhan. Unless you want to escort him straight to his death, and then face an inquiry as to why we didn’t take him down on the spot. It’d be nothing but trouble for us all.”

“Listen.” Luhan put his hand down on the ground next to him, spreading his fingers out. “Every time I’ve been unconscious while in K, Mama has tried to talk to me. She’s tried to tell me something important since even before that. But especially while I’ve been here, she’s been trying to communicate.”

Xiumin cut in right away, “It’s a damn good thing she can’t. You used to have fits and seizures once in a while, and now it’s practically every time. You’re hurt by her. And if that happened here, I’m not sure any of K’s doctors would be enough. We know Lay is invaluable and this is not the time to test that.”

“I still don’t get why you want Chanyeol to go with you,” Sehun said.

“You know why, Chanyeol,” Luhan said, bypassing Sehun altogether.

“I really don’t,” Chanyeol said, moving to kneel next to Luhan. It took all of Xiumin’s willpower not to push the man away. “Clue me in, Luhan.”

Luhan gestured down to the ground. “Put your hand down.”

Slowly Chanyeol complied, stretching his own fingers out next to Luhan’s, asking, “Why exactly am I doing this?”

Luhan turned to Xiumin. “Now you do it. The rest of you, too.”

Pretty soon they all were, most of them feeling foolish for the action. 

“What do you all feel?” Luhan asked. “Sehun?”

“The ground?” the youngest of them offered a bit smartly. “A dirty ground that we should not be touching.”

Tao agreed, saying, “It’s warm from the sun, but that’s it. Dirty and warm.”

Xiumin didn’t have much to add either. He asked instead, “What are you trying to prove, Luhan?”

Luhan wasn’t paying attention to any of them but Chanyeol, whom he asked, “Tell me what you feel. Ignore all of them. Just look at me and be honest.”

There was something there. Xiumin watched the looks fly between Chanyeol and Luhan with increasing intensity. The two of them were clearly in on something that the rest of them weren’t.

“There’s a buzz.”

“Right.” Luahn’s head bobbed. “Under your fingers, right? It travels up your arm, hits your heart and it makes you feel stronger. It happens in the blink of an eye and makes you feel invincible the second you know it’s there.”

Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?” He raised his hand and turned it over to look at it, then shook it. “The buzz is still there.” 

“If you were in M, it would be stronger,” Luhan said. “You’re feeling Mama.”

“Mama,” Chanyeol said blankly.

Luhan didn’t raise his own hand from the ground. “There are some people in this world who are more in tune with Mama. She can’t communicate with all of them, and her strength lies in her life tree, but she’s always trying. Mama’s spirit leeches up from the ground from time to time, or down from the sky when it rains. You’ve been able to feel it just now because you’re special, Chanyeol. You’re like me. You’re in tune.”

Chanyeol reeled backwards. “But you have visions. You’re precognitive sometimes. I’ve never experienced any of that before. Not even once.”

“Luhan,” Xiumin said, “we know that everyone with an ability has a connection to Mama, but there are only a handful who have even a fraction of the link that you do. It’s completely unlikely that someone from K would be in that selective few.”

“Because we’re not as good as you?” Sehun demanded.

Tao shook his head, cutting in for Xiumin, “No. Because Mama works through proximity. Luhan is the perfect example of this, and her life tree is based at the heart of M. M’s palace and capital were built up around the life tree.” A second later, he said, “Xiumin, we really need to get going. We can’t be caught here. We’re still in K territory and we’ve seen enough patrols near us to warrant moving sooner rather than later.”

Luhan reached over to grip Chanyeol’s wrist. “You don’t have visions, but like Tao said, it’s got a lot to do with how far away you are with Mama’s life tree. So there are no visions, but you do have dreams. You admitted having dreams, and I bet they’re coming all the time now, stronger than ever.”

“Everyone has dreams.” Chanyeol climbed right to his feet. 

“The kind that don’t feel like dreams?” Luhan asked. “Don’t pretend you can differentiate the feelings.”

Curiously, Xiumin asked, “What kind of dreams?” Could it be possible that they’d found the first example of someone with a third ability?

“Not prophetic!” Chanyeol denied loudly. “I dream about stuff that doesn’t make sense. It’s just my mind trying to work out issues. It’s just me dreaming.”

“I don’t think so.” Luhan released him.

Xiumin ventured, “So you think Chanyeol is precognitive?”

“Maybe not in the traditional sense,” Luhan supposed.

Tao interrupted suddenly, “I see lights.” 

It seemed like they collectively held their breath as both Tao and Chanyeol raced to shut the lights off their respective vehicles.

Xiuim all but pulled Luhan up to his feet, supporting the taller boy’s weight, but ready to make a stand if necessary. “Tell me how bad you really are right now,” Xiumin whispered to him in the pitch darkness of the night. There were twin moons that circled their planet, and usually provided more than enough light to see in the dark, but lately they’d seemed less bright.

Xiumin didn’t know how it was possible for a moon or two to lose its shine, but it was another thing on a long list of worries. 

Xiumin felt Luhan’s lips brush against his jaw as he said, “I’m okay. Really. I swear it. I’ll get better when I’m closer to home.”

That was clearly Luhan-speak for how poorly he was off, and how quickly they needed to move. He rarely admitted to needing things.

And thankfully, mercifully, as they stood in the darkness and waited, the lights in the distance veered off to the side, and began to head away from them. 

“I will say this to you all once, and only once,” Luhan said, his voice carrying. “Mama is calling to me. I was close to figuring out what she was saying when I was accidentally brought here.” If by close, Luhan meant that Mama was nearly killing him with the seizures as a result of his visions, then Xiumin thought Luhan had it nailed down. “Now she’s calling me back, and she wants me to bring Chanyeol with me. That’s why you have to come, Chanyeol. Mama wants you for some purpose, an important one, and she’s tasking me with bringing you.”

“You can’t be serious,” Chanyeol said flatly.

Luhan turned to Sehun an said, “I’ve got it figured out now. That’s what Mama was trying to tell me earlier when I was with you in your home. She’s sent Chanyeol to us for a reason, and we can’t ignore his purpose. He has to come to M.”

“Mama is not sentient,” Sehun argued right away. “Whatever she is, whatever that life tree is, Mama is not actually assessing the situation around her and thinking or speaking. That’s just something mothers tell their children to keep them in line. And I called Chanyeol, not Mama. I got him into this.”

“Mama talks to me,” Luhan defended. “Don’t think that it isn’t true just because you can’t hear her.”

Tao flipped the lights on from his vehicle and started up the engine. “We need to go now.”

“Chanyeol,” Luhan implored.

Xiumin had never seen such desperation on Luhan’s face. 

“I’m telling you, you’re important to me figuring out what Mama is trying to say about the danger in our future. If you can feel her, all the way out here, you have a very strong connection to her. Your dreams aren’t just dreams, and being closer to her will answer whatever questions you might have. It might answer the questions I have. I know I’m supposed to keep you near me because you’re important. And since I have to go to Mama’s life tree, that means you have to come with me.”

Chanyeol seemed uncertain. “I will be killed if I’m discovered in M. Figuring out why I’m one of the few connected to Mama, or what my dreams mean, isn’t worth getting killed. And you know that’s what’ll happen.” 

Oh, Xiumin realized. Luhan was about to do something very stupid. The look on Tao’s face said he realized the same thing.

Luhan told Chanyeol, “I’m the crown prince’s cousin, I have political sway over the king’s council, I am extremely powerful, and my word is powerful. If you come with me, Chanyeol, I give you my word that I will protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. The second you cross over the boarder from K to M you will be my guest and my responsibility.” He took a deep breath. “I swear to you, Chanyeol. I won’t let anything happen to you. You protected me here in K, so trust me to protect you in M.”

Tao protested right away, “The prince won’t go for this, Luhan. Not even for you. Look, we all know how much pull you have over his highness. We know what he’s willing to do for you. We know you’re the only person he’s never been able to say no to.”

Xiumin really hoped that wasn’t jealousy he was detecting.

“But he will not stand for you bringing a military officer of K, with two abilities I might add, into M without his permission first. No matter what you say to him, he isn’t going to go for this.”

Luhan bit his lip thoughtfully, then said, “What if we don’t tell him?”

Tao looked against the idea right away, and Xiumin inquired, “How would we do that?”

“Are you seriously considering this Xiumin?” Tao demanded. 

“I’m curious?” Xiumin said honestly. “You know you remember back when we were younger. Luhan always had all the best plans. I distinctly remember you trailing after us, begging to be allowed to play, promising to keep our secrets.”

Tao scowled fiercely but said nothing. 

Luhan said to the group, “I’m going directly to the life tree, not to the palace. And if I don’t see Kris, I won’t have the opportunity to tell him who I have with me. Xiumin, you’ll contact him to tell him I’m safe and on my way, but you don’t need to say anything about Chanyeol either.”

Chanyeol reminded, “I’m pretty sure my face is plastered around M. I’ll be spotted.”

“You’re only wanted by the military,” Luhan dismissed. “And M doesn’t think for one second that you would willingly cross the boarder, so the civilian population has no idea what you look like. If we change your clothes, and give you some glasses, style your hair a little different, and if you don’t wander onto any M military bases, you’ll be fine. We’ll go directly to the tree, and then I’ll take you back to the boarder and get you on your way home.”

Tao said bluntly, “This is a stupid plan.”

Luhan sagged further against Xiumin who said, “There’s no way you’re taking him back to the boarder, Luhan. You need to spend a lot of time near the life tree. Putting distance between yourself and the tree if only to go back to the boarder, isn’t going to happen.”

“Xiumin,” Luhan whined. 

Xiumin groaned, “Stop making those noises. If we decide to go for this plan, and I agree with Tao, it isn’t as strong as I think it needs to be. I’ll be the one to bring Chanyeol back.”

Chanyeol said, “Or dump my body in a ditch somewhere.”

Xiumin cut him a dark look. “I have top clearance. If we get caught by someone who recognizes you, I can pull rank long enough to get us clear to the boarder.”

“I feel so loved,” Chanyeol said facetiously. 

“I don’t love you,” Xiumin said, starting to pull Luhan towards the vehicle that he and Tao had been driving. “I love Luhan. I love him enough to do something like this for you. Keep that in mind.”

“Chanyeol?” Luhan called. “Please believe me when I say it’s very important that Mama is able to clearly communicate with you. There is something severely wrong with her. And what hurts Mama, will hurts the rest of us. It won’t matter if we’re from K or M, if something happens to Mama. Please, please believe me. Trust me.”

Chanyeol reminded, “If I agree, I’ll be putting my life in your hands.”

“My capable hands,” Luhan said, hooking onto the vehicle’s door and refusing to budge even as Xiumin pushed at him. 

It was impossible to tell if Chanyeol was going to go for it, and equally as impossible for Xiumin to figure out if he even wanted Chanyeol to. By all rights the prince would be viciously furious when he eventually found out, and he certainly would, that Xiumin had gone along with Luhan’s plan. There’d be serious repercussions for sure, but Xiumin had always been a sucker for Luhan, and the prince would know that as well. 

“I better not regret this,” Chanyeol said, pulling at the buttons on the cuffs of his military uniform. “Seriously, Luhan.” He stripped the jacket off a second later and tossed it to the ground, leaving himself in a white undershirt. 

“What about me?” 

Xiumin had just started to make some progress in getting Luhan in the cab of the vehicle when Sehun spoke up. Xiumin was willing to bet most of them had forgotten about the young wind user. 

Before Xiumin could dismiss him, Chanyeol said, “It’ll be a lot safer if you go back. Take the vehicle, go home, and wait for me to contact you. Don’t say anything to anyone about what happened, and don’t try to return the vehicle to the base by yourself. They’ll start asking you questions and it won’t be good.”

Sehun looked every bit as young as he was as he nearly stamped his foot, protesting, “I’m a part of this too!”

Tao asked him, eyebrow raised, “Do you think Chanyeol is the only one they’ll shoot on sight if caught?”

“No,” Sehun said dismissively, ignoring Tao and catching Luhan’s gaze. “But I have nothing to go back to. I’m not in the military. I don’t plan on fighting, and I don’t care about who’s from M and who’s from K. I grew up in the neutral area. Those of us who do, don’t ever really get the divide. We don’t care about old prejudices. In fact, the only thing I care about is sticking to Luhan like glue and seeing this through to the end. I don’t care about the risk. I don’t care about anything but this.”

It was true that the children who aged out of the neutral area were far less likely to take sides in the war, and most of them were quite comfortable in the presence of the other side. But Sehun was young, maybe still a minor, and even if he didn’t have anything to go back to, like he claimed, that wasn’t a valid reason for continuing on.

“Sehun,” Luhan said with a sigh of sympathy. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. This is risky. I’m only begging Chanyeol to come because I truly believe he’s important to finding out what’s happening to Mama. I don’t want to risk you.”

Sehun frowned. “I can speak the M dialect flawlessly. And I have an ability, so I’d be added protection if something happened. Plus, no matter what you say, I’m not a child. I can make my own choices, and I understand the consequences of those choices. If you try to stop me from coming with you, Luhan, I’ll just follow on my own, and that could put us all in danger.”

Xiumin felt his skin itch as the seconds ticked by, Sehun and Luhan staring each other down.

Surprisingly it was Tao who spoke up, commanding, “All of you, yes, all of you, get in the vehicle. We need to go now and I will not hesitate to throw any stragglers into the trunk and hit the pedal as hard as I can.”

Sehun shot forward to duck under Xiumin’s arm and sit next to Luhan comfortably, Chanyeol taking Luhan’s other side.

“We’re going to get destroyed for this,” Xiumin said to Tao, sliding into the front passenger seat. “Destroyed.”

Luhan leaned forward and kissed the back of Xiumin’s head. “You’re the best, baozi.”

“Then you’d better be ready to protect me from one pissed off dragon.”

Lowly, Tao cut back, “You think you’re in trouble? Try being in my shoes. His highness is going to take this personally with me.”

Xiumin leaned back in his seat and sunk down. Luhan was safe. That was what he tried to keep at the forefront of his mind. Luhan was coming home, he was going to be well again, and if there was something wrong with Mama, Luhan was going to figure it out. Nothing else was important. Things would work themselves out.

Maybe if he repeated it enough in his head, he’d start to believe that last part.


	9. Chen

Lay was nearly completely still on the bed in front of them, and if it hadn’t been the for the short rise and fall of his chest, he’d have played the part of a dead man convincingly. Chen shuddered to think about Lay dying. Some of his friends, the soldiers at least, had been born to die. They achieved honor through battle, especially defending their king and way of life. But Lay was not a soldier. He was a civilian, and an important one at that. What would the rest of them do without their healer when Luhan was recovered?

If.

“We’ve done all we can, your highness,” one of the palace’s most seasoned doctors reported. He was elderly, but his hands didn’t shake, and he seemed clear enough of mind to be treating Lay competently. If the prince trusted the old man, then Chen would too.

Speaking of the prince, he was next to Chen with a rigid posture and a dark shadow to his features. “What’s wrong with him?”

It still made Chen’s gut clench to think of the way Lay had fallen, body shaking and eyes rolling up into his head. He’d been unresponsive for several, heart pounding seconds, and Chen had been preparing to start breathing for him when the prince had grabbed Lay’s leg and pulled him away from being in contact with Mama’s life tree’s roots. Lay had started breathing again then, but just barely. 

Why would Mama do that to Lay?

She was supposed to watch over them and protect them, and certainly not hurt them. 

“Chen?”

Then again, Mama hurt Luhan every time she broke into his mind, sending him collapsing to the floor, disoriented and in desperate need of help afterwards.

So now Mama hurt them? Was she punishing them for something?

“Chen?”

A strong hand gripped his bicep and Chen was brought out of his thought by the prince. “Sorry,” he mumbled, making sure to keep his head down. It was just hard. Lay was his friend. He and Lay and Xiumin and Luhan had spent a lot of time growing up together and they were exceptionally close. Now Luhan was missing, Xiumin was in serious danger, and Lay was ….

“Is he going to be okay?” Chen asked the doctoor.

The doctor gave them a patient look. “He’s stable right now, and we’re going to monitor him very carefully. We’re cautiously optimistic. But there’s no denying we don’t know what caused this or what exactly we’re dealing with.”

Chen snorted. “Mama did this.”

“We don’t know that,” the prince defended. “Or we don’t know why.”

“Will he wake up soon?” Chen inquired. “He will wake up, right?”

Before the doctor could answer, the prince clearly surprised everyone by cutting in, “What about that young healer? The one brought up here recently from the east? The girl?”

Chen’s head cocked. “We have another healer?” If people with Mama’s gift were rare, healers were even more so. There was a reason that Chen had special orders from the prince to keep just as much a close eye on Lay, as he did on Luhan. Up until a second ago, Chen had thought that Lay was one of only a few healers in M, the rest of them all imbedded in the military for the push into K. 

The prince said to Chen, “There are very few people who know about her existence. She’s young, thirteen, and just beginning to display her abilities. She’d be a serious target for certain types of people, if they knew she existed. Until she’s stronger, and more equipped to deal with the attention she’ll be getting as a result of her ability, I want to keep her as secluded from the public as possible.”

Chen frowned. “But could she help Lay?”

The prince shrugged. “That’s what I want to ask the doctor about.”

The answer was written on the man’s face. “She’s young, your highness. And too inexperienced with her ability. She would likely do more harm than good. I suggest that we wait and see what happens with this young man. He’s healthy and strong. Give him time to recover.”

“Mama did this to him,” Chen breathed out, reaching for Lay’s nearby hand. It was cold and limp, but Chen still felt better just being in contact with him. “He was just standing there, touching her life tree’s roots. How could this happen? Why would he get hurt like this?”

“I don’t know,” the prince offered honestly. “And that scares me. But we’re going to work together to figure this out. That’s something I can promise you.”

It wasn’t the prince’s job to comfort him. In fact Chen had been taught his whole life to be strong and to fight off emotionally compromising feelings, and to never let himself appear weak in front of the monarchy. He was a soldier, the king’s hand, and he needed to be perceived as such.

But the fact that the prince was willing to comfort him? That the prince saw how much Lay meant to him and could offer not only sympathy, but empathy as well? It was startling to Chen. A good startling. It reaffirmed the most important decision he’d ever made in his life.

Xiumin’s parents had been the one to make the decision between M and K. They’d uprooted Xiumin for the sake of his gift and the opportunities that M cold give him. They’d done it selflessly and gone against everything they believed in.

Chen was different. His mother and father were still in K. His little brother, who wasn’t so little anymore, could be a soldier in K’s army, or their older sisters. Chen had been the one, just before his fourteenth birthday, to make the hard choice of separating from his family, forsaking his loyalty to K, and kneeling in front of M’s king. Because of moments like these. Because Chen had seen the kind of chaos a republic ruled by a large populous of people could bring, and because he was convinced that one person, wholly concentrated on the betterment of his people, was a more successful type of government. 

The prince was young and arrogant at times, but he could also be kind, and he was filled with a sense of duty. Someone like Commander Suho, if given a chance to implement a democratic government, would be forced to consult with others, take into account their feelings or opinions, and ultimately do what the general consensus wanted. The prince would be under no such burden when he was king. He’d simply do what was best for the people, and guide them along.

Sometimes Chen could see how democracy would appeal to others, and sometimes he couldn’t see it in the least bit. 

“I know he’ll be okay, your highness,” Chen said with a half bow. “Lay is strong, and he knows how much he’s needed.”

The doctor gave them a bit more information, but by the end of the hour the night was in full swing and Chen could see the deep lines of exhaustion on the prince’s face.

“We should get you back to your room,” Chen prodded gently. “You’re tired. More than that, your highness, you’re exhausted. Tomorrow will be difficult for you. You’ll need at least a few hours of sleep to get through it.” 

“Agreed,” the prince said quietly, and Chen could tell he was thinking of the speech he was expected to give in less than twelve hours. He would have to be charismatic and courageous, and more than anything else, he’d have to be absolutely convincing. 

If he wasn’t, or if the people lost their confidence in him …

The real threat wasn’t the war with K. Chen knew M was more than capable of dealing with K, even without the sizable push of troops into enemy territory. But if the people lost their confidence in the prince, and if Luhan wasn’t there to rally them, the dying king’s advisors and inner circle had the opportunity to seize power. The king’s council was by far the bigger issue at the moment.

“Let me take you to your bedroom,” Chen said, pulling open a door for the prince. “You can get a few hours of sleep, and be ready to go for tomorrow. Everything will be okay.”

“Will it?” the prince asked immediately, his feet dragging a bit. “My father is dying. He’ll be dead in a few days, and Luhan is still missing. The people will support me for now, but what happens when they realize what happened to Luhan? How can I keep them safe when I couldn’t keep him? They’ll start to doubt me, and that’ll be the beginning of it all.”

Chen said dismissively, “The ability for the people to call for a vote of no confidence from you is just a formality. One put in place by your great grandmother to prevent a monarch from abusing the people or acting selfishly. You would have to do something to prove to the people that you’re weak, or that you don’t have their best interest at heart. And that is something you wouldn’t do. I have confidence in that.”

The prince’s feet slowed him to a stop. “They’ll leak it. Tomorrow, likely.”

“Leak what?” Chen asked confused. “What?”

“Luhan’s disappearance,” the prince said simply. “I’ll be making a speech about us coming together, pooling our resources for this final push for unity, and my father’s council leak Luhan’s disappearance to the civilians. They’ll start a panic, an uproar even, and suddenly my speech won’t be about how I am going to keep our monarchy strong and powerful, but how I personally am weak and powerless. Especially with people I love.”

Chen posed, “You could use that to your advantage. Tell the people that you are not only invading K to bring unity to Exo, but to show that no one can get away from stealing from us, especially stealing someone so precious to us. If those assholes leak it, use it. Be stronger and smarter than them.”

In a show of frustration, the prince admitted, “I’d like to throw the twelve of them out on their asses. They’re supposed to help keep the monarchy in check. Not control it.”

Chen touched the prince’s elbow tentatively, getting him walking again. “You’ve known your whole life you’d have to deal with them eventually. But,” Chen said, wiggling his eyebrows a little, “they’re old men, and you’re young. The position is for life, but it doesn’t look like a lot of them are going to live very much longer. When that starts to happen, you can replace them with your own picks. Your father got suck with the ones that his mother made, but it’s not the same for you. You’ll be appointing people who are loyal to you, and hopefully less power hungry.”

“If I survive that long.”

“You’re strong,” Chen said easily. “If someone is going to survive. It’ll be you.”

Chen took him all the way back to his suite, making direct eye contact with the guards stationed outside the heavy doors, memorizing their faces just in case. After what had happened to Luhan, however it had happened, he wasn’t taking any chances with the prince. Especially with Tao gone. If Chen let anything happen to the prince, so much as a paper cut, Tao would kill him. Literally.

“Stop being so paranoid,” the prince said as Chen search the spacious bedroom, then the antechamber, and the sitting room to the side. “My chambers are actually secure.”

“So were Luhan’s,” Chen argued. “And he had two people in that room with him. You’re a bigger target than he was, so please, your highness, let me have my paranoia.”

The prince walked slowly to his bed and sat on the edge, pulling off his heavy boots. “Are you going to sleep by my side, too?”

It was meant as a joke, but Chen replied, “I’m thinking about it, actually. There are only a couple people Tao trusts implicitly with your life, and I’m one of them. I take that very seriously. So with all things considered, I think I will stay the night here.”

“Chen.”

There was a weird look on the prince’s face that had Chen asking, “What is it?”

A second later the prince shook his head, huffing. “Nothing. I guess I’m just luckier than I thought. You want to do me a favor?”

“If I can,” Chen said.

“When we’re alone like this, and it’s just you and me with no one else watching, call me by my name.”

Chen’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not!”

The prince flopped back on his bed in the only real show of impropriety that Chen had ever seen from him. It made him wonder how the prince really was when no one was watching.

“Luhan calls me by my name. He’s practically the only one.”

“He’s your cousin, and he’s engaged to you. That’s understandable.”

“So does Tao. After that, the list gets very short.”

Chen bit his tongue. Chen was fully aware of the kind of relationship that Tao and the prince had. It was the kind of relationship that was fiercely protected and hidden by those who did know, and never spoken of. Chen knew because he was one of the few who spent enough time around both the prince and the captain of the guard to recognize the looks between them. Chen doubted hardly anyone else had logged those kinds of hours, or been as perceptive. 

“Your highness, you shouldn’t ask me something like that.”

The prince folded is hands over his stomach, eyes on the ceiling. “Lay’s been calling me by my given name in private for years. I only let the people that I trust and respect the most, call me by my name. So I can’t figure out why you aren’t. We’re going to change that today.”

Chen’s mouth felt dry. “Your first name.”

“It’s not that hard,” the prince chuckled. “Call me Kris.”

“It would feel too weird,” Chen said, wiggling a little. 

The prince held up a finger. “Just when we’re alone, and it’s me and you, and there’s no need for titles. Should I make it an official request?”

With one more deep breath, Chen eased out, “Kris.”

The prince rolled to one side, hand supporting his head. “Was that so hard?”

It was harder than the prince wanted to hear about, likely, and it did feel completely disrespectful. But Chen liked the way it made the prince smile, and look a little less stressed out, if only for a minute or two.

“How about we just call it a night. I’ll call someone to help you change and get settled in.”

“You’ll get used to it,” the prince assured him, sitting up. “And don’t call anyone. I’m not my father. I don’t need three people to change my clothes. I just want to have a moment of peace.”

Chen gave him a genuine smile. “I’ll be in the next room, okay? It’s within earshot. Call me if you need anything.”

“You can go to your own bed, you know. I’ll be fine. I’m not going to go wandering around the palace at night. That’s how intentional accidents happen to important people.”

Chen had made the mistake once before of letting someone important dismiss him, and that hadn’t worked out well at all. He’d probably feel guilt over Luhan for the rest of his life, and rightly so.

“The next room,” Chen repeated, gesturing with his thumb. “Call me for anything.”

Chen closed the door to the prince’s bedroom behind him quietly and then all but collapsed himself down onto one of the cushioned benches lining the walls to the antechamber. The room was quiet, with a high ceiling that would echo any words that were spoken in it, and while it wasn’t the place that Chen particularly thought was the most comfortable to spend the night, it was the direct buffer between the hallways leading out into the palace, and the sleeping prince.

The prince wasn’t the only one who was tried.

Pinching himself on the leg, Chen forced his eyes open even as his body relaxed. He didn’t know how Tao managed this night after night. 

When sunrise was a few hours away Chen heaved himself up to his feet. He paced the length of the room and then turned to do it again. 

Then the froze.

Everything was silent. Without the sound of his feet clacking on the marble floor of the antechamber, there was dead silence.

The prince snored.

In two giant leaps Chen was across the room, throwing up the doors to the prince’s bedroom. He was accosted immediately with the sight of a strange form crouched over the prince in his bed, and another standing nearby. The room was dimly lit by one lamp in the nearby bedside table, but it was enough.

“Your highness!”

Lightening flashed from Chen’s fingertips and streaked across the room, lighting it up with deadly intent.

“D.O.!”

The figure near the bed lunged forward, hooking onto his companion and the both of them disappeared immediately. However they were back in an instant, only they’d moved to the far end of the room at were both looking uneasy.

“I’m okay!” the prince shot up on the bed, looking no worse for wear. “Chen!”

One of the intruders sagged heavily against the other as the doors to the antechamber burst open audibly.

“Guards!” Chen called out, his voice unwavering. “There’s been an assassination attempt on the prince!”

“We weren’t trying to kill him,” the stronger of the two men said, holding his companion up. 

The prince slid off the bed and cross quickly to Chen side, agreeing, “I think they meant to take me alive.”

In the blink of an eye a dozen of the prince’s guard were flooding the room, weapons at the ready.

“Can you get us out of here?” one intruder asked the other. “Kai?”

Chen thrust an arm out to keep the prince behind him, then commanded, “These two are accused of trying to kidnap the prince. Take them to the prison cells. Kill them if they put up any fight.”

“Wait!” Looking ill, the man who was sagging heavily reached out towards them. “I’m not here to kill your prince. I’m not here to kidnap him, either. I’m … the one you think stole Luhan. I’m the teleporter.”

The prince rushed out, “Wait,” then took a deliberate step around Chen. “You kidnapped Luhan?”

“You think I did.”

“I do,” the prince confirmed. “Now either tell me where you took him, or I’ll let you be one of the very few to actually see the dragon’s might. As it rips you limb from limb, of course.”

“My name is Kai,” the man said shakily. “This is my friend D.O., and if you’re willing to call your attack dogs off, I’ll tell you exactly what happened.”

Chen scoffed loudly, almost laughing. “We have you at the clear advantage. Why should we compromise with you in the least bit?”

Kai shrugged. “I can teleport.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

The prince ground out darkly, “Where is my cousin?”

Kai straightened up, squared his shoulders and said, “You want to talk to me, Prince Kris. Because I didn’t kidnap your cousin. It was an accident, and I’m the last person on this planet who’d want to hurt him. There are a lot of things you don’t know, and you’ve invaded my country under false pretenses. Let me talk, and you listen, and then you can decide afterwards what you want to do. But understand, I’m not here under Commander Suho’s authority, I would never hurt Luhan, and I’m your best chance at getting him back.”

Chen turned to the prince. “He’s likely lying.”

The prince strode quickly to the side of his bed, pulled open a drawer on the bedside table, and held up a silver bracelet. He told Kai, “You put this on and then we’ll talk.”

The other man, D.O., squinted at it. “What is it?”

Chen was curious, too. 

“Insurance,” the prince said. “That you won’t be trying anything. That’s the deal. Or I have my men take you directly to the nearest cell for interrogation.”

“I hope you don’t think Kai is the only one with an ability,” D.O. said, and Chen could already tell despite teleportation being a formidable ability, D.O. was clearly the more dangerous of the two of them. “I’ll wipe out your entire little gang of soldiers before you can even think about getting another bolt of lightening off.”

Chen narrowed his gaze. “You want to wager on that?”

“Deal,” Kai barked out unexpectedly. “D.O. will wear one too. But don’t think it’s because we don’t think we can take you. And I might not be at full strength, but I can still teleport myself and D.O. away this very instant if I want to. I’m agreeing because I want to find Luhan as much as you do, and stop this ridiculous invasion based on his disappearance. And us talking might do that.”

That was how, fifteen minutes later, Chen ended up in one of the palace’s conference rooms that he had never so much as known existed before. He stood unwaveringly still behind the prince who was seated in a tall chair, and across from them, wearing what Chen now knew were dampening bracelets, sat their two intruders. 

D.O. and Kai. Both soldiers in K’s army, but apparently acting without orders.

“I didn’t kidnap your cousin,” Kai said, and Chen could see him absently playing with the bracelet on his wrist. “It may seem that way, you may have eyewitness reports that claim it, and you may truly believe that, but I didn’t kidnap him. I teleported us away to save our lives.”

“Explain,” the prince demanded roughly, “as well as why you were in his bedroom to begin with.”

A wide smile pulled across Kai’s mouth. “I was in his room frequently, your highness. We used to meet other places, but his room became the safest.” He paused, then asked bluntly, “Don’t you know what I’m insinuating? Do I have to spell it out to you? Your precious little cousin and I are lovers.”

In the chair directly next to Kai’s, D.O. used a hand to cover his face with a groan. “If we weren’t friends…”

Chen was immediately thankful he couldn’t see the face of the prince from his position, especially from the way his shoulders were shaking furiously. Glancing at the guards from across the room, the ones who could see the prince’s expression, it wasn’t good at all.

“My cousin would never!” the prince barked out, voice dripping with distain. “Not with the likes of you!”

“Oh come off it,” Kai returned easily. “He was getting prophetic dreams about me long before we met, and I’m not lying about the kind of relationship we have. When one of Luhan’s guards woke up that night he disappeared, the guy tried to kill me out of instinct. Luhan got in the way, and I had to teleport the both of us away to avoid death. There was an accident while teleporting. We ended up separated.”

Without warning the prince turned to the other guards and ordered sharply, “All of you leave now.”

There were a round of immediate protests, including Chen who moved to kneel in front of the prince, insisted, “You can’t be suggesting that you’re left with so little protection against these savages. It’s against our very nature to allow you into that kind of compromising position.”

“Ah, excuse me,” D.O. called out. “One of the savages would like to point out that we’re completely uninterested in killing you for the time being, but we’ll be sure to let you know when that’s about to change.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” the prince clarified to Chen. “And I’m confident that you can take down two men with dampening bracelets in about half the time that it would take for me to order you to do so.” He leaned closer so he could drop his voice. “I trust my guard to protect my life, not my secrets. So unless you want the entire country to know what we’re about to speak of, I suggest that you allow me to order them out.”

After the smallest of hesitations, Chen straightened up and told the guard, “I will stay here with his highness, the lot of you will position yourselves outside the doors and wait for further instruction.”

Chen hadn’t even thought of that. But the prince was completely correct, and the guard had probably heard too much already. By the time they exited the room there’d be rumors floating around about Luhan’s after hours activities. If that was even the truth, and Chen wasn’t so quick to believe it was. There was no passion between the prince and Luhan, that was clear to see, but there was love. So what was the truth? They probably wouldn’t know unless they heard it from Luhan himself.

Finally, when it was just the four of them in the room, with Chen’s nerves on high alert, the prince spoke up, asking Kai, “You’re expecting me to believe that you’re carrying on some sort of dalliance with my cousin?”

Kai nodded. “For almost a year now. And before you go getting any sort of ideas, it’s completely mutual, consensual and yes, were always aware of the consequences. But when you’re in love, consequences are usually the last thing on your mind. But I do assure you, I’m not just sleeping with him. I love him. I am in love with him, and if things were different, I’d be thinking about marrying him.”

“You don’t know where he ended up after your … accident?”

“No.” Kai shook his head immediately. “I didn’t even end up where I meant to. I was trying to teleport back to the capital, and I ended up where some of my best childhood memories are. Luhan could be anywhere. But that’s not my point. My point is, what happened truly was an accident. I couldn’t control the teleport, I was trying to save Luhan’s life, and invading my country on the basis of a lie is just dirty.”

Chen watched the prince’s face careful as he said, “Certainly you didn’t expect war to be clean.”

“No,” Kai agreed. “But I understand how your country’s system of government works, and how are you going to explain to them that you took their resources and gave it to a war based on something that never happened in the first place?”

“The people will believe what I tell them to believe,” the prince cut back. “I won’t let their image of Luhan be sullied by someone like you. I’d rather they think he was kidnapped, than lost in an accident that occurred with his lover.”

D.O. hissed, “But you ordered an invasion based on something that wasn’t the truth! We’re not holding your cousin. We’re not lying to you. We’re offering to spend all our resources and time to help you find him, and then give him back.”

Chen said smoothly, “Luhan will be found. We don’t need your resources for that. We have no doubt he’s still alive, and likely making his way back to us as we speak. Maybe you’ve forgotten how strong this bloodline is.”

Kai’s foot jumped around in what appeared to be more of a reflexive twitch than anything, right before he said, “We had an agreement. Luhan and I. We didn’t talk about things that related to the war. We didn’t ask each other for information. We kept all of that separate from what we wanted our relationship to be. It was the only way we could see to make it work. But he said something about you once that’s stuck with me ever since.”

Chen knew immediately the prince was interested in the way he leaned forward. “Luhan spoke about me. To you? Is that supposed to make me feel anything less than sullied?”

Kai made a short noise. “You don’t have to play the part of the asshole prince. None of your underlings are listening. It’s just you and me, when it comes down to it. Now, do you want to know what Luhan said to me? It’s about the war. That should pique your interest at least a little.”

“Luhan wouldn’t betray the secrets of this state,” Chen said confidently. “No matter how he’s been seduced.”

D.O. gave a sharp laugh. “Trust me, I know nothing about this relationship, but Kai has the seduction techniques of a fish out of water.”

Kai shot him a dirty look. “You’re not helping.”

“I would like to go back to bed soon,” the prince said in a testy voice. “So either start making progress with what you need to say, or start walking to our detention center. The choice is yours.”

Chen was all for the walking. Just because the two men in front of them were wearing dampening bracelets, the likes of which were still astonishing to Chen, didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. Or that they wouldn’t make a move at any time.

Kai said, “Luhan told me once that he felt sorry for you. He felt sorrow. Because he said he was absolutely confident that this wasn’t a war you wanted. He said this war, the one that is happening right now, is your father’s war, and you’re just going along with it because you don’t know how to stop it. Is that what you think invasion is going to do? Stop the war? You might unite K and M under your dictatorship, but that won’t stop the fighting.”

“My father’s war?” the prince laughed off. 

“Well,” Kai reasoned, “it would be difficult for your father to make the call about the invasion from his deathbed. And no, before you make that face at me, Luhan didn’t tell me. But I will be telling Commander Suho, and that just might be enough to shake the very foundation you want to build your crown on.”

“You know nothing about the situation at hand in M,” the prince said viciously. 

Kai shrugged. “You’re right. I only know what I’ve seen. And what Luhan has said to me. And he said you don’t want this war. Look around, prince. We’re alone. I trust D.O. with my life. I’m willing to bet, because you let your pet stick around, that you trust him with yours. With whatever we’re speaking about, too. So just be honest with me. You don’t really want this war any more than Commander Suho does. You just don’t know how to end it.”

If possible, things got even more tense.

The only response the prince had, the one that Chen approved of, was, “There are things at work in M that someone like you can’t even begin to understand. Your Commander Suho doesn’t have to answer to a third party. He’s free to make the choices he decides upon.”

“And you aren’t?” D.O. asked, surprise laced into his voice. “You’re the prince. You’re about to become the king.”

“I can’t stop things that are set in motion,” the prince said. “Not with Luhan missing.”

“I will find him,” Kai vowed. “I won’t stop searching for anything. Not to eat, not to sleep.”

Candidly, the prince answered, “Things might, and I emphasize might, be different if you had brought Luhan with you. If I could take him with me tomorrow to show to the people that he is fine, that we weren’t avenging him in some way by invading, I might be able to stop things where they are. But you don’t even have a clue where he is, or if he’s okay.”

“Do you want this war to end?” Kai asked. “I just want an honest answer. I’m not Commander Suho. I don’t have the ability to broker peace between our people, and I don’t have any authority now that I’ve basically gone rogue. I can only ask you for the truth and hope you’ll tell it to me. Is this war something you believe in? Is unification that important to you?”

Chen held his breath.

“I …”

“What would it matter if you admitted it to me?” Kai asked. “I’m just a savage.”

“Luhan,” the prince eased out, “is as perceptive as ever.”

D.O. assumed, “So you really don’t want this war?”

The prince said quickly, “I don’t dispute the benefit our economy has seen because of the prolonged war, or the morale boost it’s been. But truthfully, as the representative and head of M, I want no part of a group of people who do not want to be a part of my country. If K wants independence from M, and if I were able to grant them that, I would. The only people I want in M are the ones who want to be there. Forcing someone under my rule isn’t my style.”

Chen said, “That’s part of the reason for the confidence system the monarchy operates under.”

“I don’t think your king got the memo,” D.O. said.

“My father and I will be two different kings,” the prince defended. “I value choice and loyalty. He values strength in unity. No one is more right than the other. If you knew the burden of the crown, you’d understand this.”

Kai let out a deep breath. “I came here, against Commander Suho’s wishes, to try and stop the invasion. All I can promise you is that I will continue to look for Luhan, and never give up on finding him, if you can promise a withdrawal of troops. Your father is going to die. Take control of your army and tell them to do what you want.”

“Luhan was merely the catalyst for the invasion,” the prince said slowly. “And I have no way of stopping it legitimately without him by my side. As my husband. In a show of strength behind the crown.”

Chen watched Kai’s face very carefully. He claimed to be Luhan’s lover, but even he had to have known full well that Luhan was destined to marry the prince. How would Kai react to a statement like the one the prince had just made?

Slowly, Kai asked, “If I brought Luhan back to you, and you married him, you’d have the people’s confidence enough to stop the invasion?”

“Very likely,” the prince confirmed. “But he would have to be my husband. The people value the sanctity of marriage, how it strengthens the rule of kings and queens, and more than that, the people follow Luhan almost blindly. They love him. They believe in him. They trust him. Would you be willing to simply hand over someone you claim to be in love with to another man for marriage?”

The tightness across Kai’s face was very telling. But he surprised Chen by stating, “No matter what I feel for Luhan, and what you think my inability to relate to your situation is, I can forego what I want for a greater good. I would give up Luhan to save my people, even if it would hurt to do it.”

“That is surprising,” Chen remarked dryly. “I wouldn’t have thought someone like you would be capable of selflessness.”

“I’m just full of surprises,” Kai shot back.

The prince pushed up from his chair a second later and stood before Kai and D.O.. You should be aware that none of this matters in the least bit because you don’t have Luhan. You don’t have him to give to me, and I can’t do anything about the invasion without him. In many ways I appreciate what you came here to try and do, but you haven’t achieved anything. I can’t do what you--”

The prince was cut off suddenly by the heavy echo of the conference room’s doors slamming open. Chen was at the ready a split second later, crackling with lightening as he stood protectively in front of the man he’d sworn to protect to his dying breath.

The prince nearly threw Chen off balance sprinting past him, yelling out, “Tao!”

It was Tao. He was dressed in varying tones of brown, without his usual uniform or sword, and he looked bone weary, but there was a triumphant smile on his face as he dropped into a low bow, reporting, “I’ve got him, your highness. We have Luhan.”

Kai shot to his own feet, demanded, “Luhan is safe? He’s here?”

“Sit down!” Chen commanded immediately, trying to keep order in the situation. He wanted to ask Tao his own questions, or at least be at his side when the prince did, but there was no way Chen could abandon their intruders. They were still too much of a threat. 

Tao gave a firm nod to Chen, obviously pleased with the condition of the prince, then said, “Luhan is okay. He’s fine, really. He’s just suffering from some withdrawals from Mama. He was pretty far inland to K.”

“Where is he now?” the prince demanded, obviously itching to wrap his cousin up in a tight hug. “In his room? Did you take him to be checked over by a doctor instead?”

“No,” Tao said, surprising them all. “I mentioned that he’s been going through withdrawals from Mama. I guess that’s the best apt description. He says she’s been trying to get in contact with him, but he’s been too far away from her life tree. That’s where Xiumin’s taken him. He says he needs to be in contact with the life tree to feel better. Xiumin promised to bring him right here after that.”

The color drained from the prince’s face as Chen barked out, “He’s going to touch the life tree?”

“Yes,” Tao eased out. “He does that a lot.”

Immediately the prince was pushing at Tao, shouting, “Go, go now! Don’t let him!”

“Why not?” Tao demanded.

“Because Lay made contact with the life tree earlier,” Chen rushed out, “and it almost killed him!”

With only the slightest hesitation, Tao spun on heel and raced out of the room.

“Take this off now!” Kai shouted, banging his bracelet down on the armrest of the chair he’d been sitting on.

“Sit down!” Chen shouted, advancing on him.

“Chen,” the prince breathed out, fear consuming his features. “Lay was completely healthy when the life tree almost killed him. If Luhan touches it with his health the way it is…”

“I said,” Kai shouted once more, for the first time looking like the deadly operative Chen knew he was, “get this bracelet off my wrist right now.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Chen shouted back. “I’m not going to give you free reign--”

“I’m a teleporter! I can get to Luhan before your dog can. Do you want to Luhan to live?”

Before Chen could properly digest the worst that had been said to him, the prince was streaking over, shouting, “Stop Luhan!” and slipping the bracelet off. Kai was gone before another breath was taken.

Chen said a bit shakily, pulling his eyes from the spot Kai had been standing, to the prince’s form, “I hope we didn’t just make a mistake letting him go.”

The prince nodded towards D.O.. “He’s the loyal type. I can see it in him. He’ll come back for this one.”

D.O. slumped down in his seat and held up his own wrist. “Any chance in me getting mine off?”

Chen arched an eyebrow.

“I didn’t think so.”


	10. Luhan

It was like being enfolded into his mother’s warm embrace and being promised complete protection from any kind of harm. That was what it felt like, standing in front of Mama’s life tree. He’d been away from her for only a few shorts days, but upon being returned, it felt more like years. Decades, even.

“Happy to be back?” Xiumin asked from near Luhan’s elbow.

“Xiumin,” Luhan breathed out, turning to look at him. “I am very happy to be back.” Happy to feel Mama thrumming under his skin, soothing over him with silent power, causing the tiny hairs on his arms and legs to vibrate. Happy to simply feel her.

It was only now he was realizing how terribly being parted from her had been. It had been agony, upon reflection. Agony to live even a second without feeling her in his heart, through only the faint vibrations of the ground and sky.

He had never, not for a second, ever considered blaming Kai for what had happened. If anything, Kai had been the innocent party and Luhan had almost gotten them both killed. Kai had saved him, even if he’d torn Luhan away from Mama and away from her guiding hand.

Only the knowledge that he had friends who would do their best to help him had comforted him and given him hope during the worst moments. But it was possible some part of him had never really believed he’d see home again. Mama was … indescribably powerful, but not even she was in full control of everything.

Sehun took a deliberate step forward jarring Luhan from his thoughts, gushing, “It’s so big!” He looked young, innocent and full of amazement. Luhan had to remind himself this was Sehun’s first time seeing Mama’s life tree. It was probably his first time really connecting with her, too.

It made Luhan wonder if Kai felt a connection to Mama. He’d certainly been around the life tree enough as of late. Of course it seemed unlikely that he’d feel Mama in the same way that Luhan did. It seemed as if no one felt Mama the way Luhan did. 

Kai.

The first time Luhan had dreamed of Kai he’d woken flushed, sweaty and sticky. Filled with sudden humiliation over the kind of reaction a dream could evoke from his body, he’d tried to put Kai from his mind completely. Dreaming about a lover he’d have in the future wasn’t something he planned to share with anyone, ever. But the dreams hadn’t stopped. They’d gotten more intense, instead, and years before he’d met Kai, he’d learned the most intimate things about him.

Dreaming about Sehun had been different. He’d woken from those dreams comforted by a phantom friendship, excited to share experiences with Sehun that they hadn’t actually had yet. Luhan had had his suspicions very recently that Mama had forged that kind of relationship between them for the very moment when it was necessary for Sehun to find him amidst the teleportation accident. Things worked out oddly when Mama was involved.

But it was a hard sell sometimes, even Luhan to had to admit, to believe that Mama was orchestrating certain events. She was there, surrounding them at all times, and it was an undisputable fact, but few thought she was something sentient. Still, there was simply no other explanation that Luhan could come up with for the things he’d seen through his visions and dreams over the years. 

Why would he dream about the very people who’d end up saving him and loving him and making all the difference in the world, if not due to meticulous planning? He never dreamed about unimportant people. He never had visions about events in the future that weren’t crucial in some way.

“The life tree is big,” Luhan agreed, crossing to stand near Sehun. The taller boy’s head was tipped completely back and his mouth was open in awe. “When you look up like that, it kind of makes you feel small, right? But in a good way.”

Sehun nodded. “Luhan. You didn’t tell me I’d feel this way seeing the life tree. Standing in front of it.”

Luhan questioned, “Can you feel her now?”

“Huh?” Sehun clarified, “No. I mean, well, I just feel like I’m part of something important for the first time in my life. I have one of Mama’s gifts. She must have given it to me for some reason. She must have seen something special in me.”

Luhan let his arm link through Sehun’s. “You are very special, Sehun. Mama’s gifts are rare. You should be comforted by the idea that she doesn’t just give them to anyone.”

“Well,” Chanyeol said, moving to Luhan’s other side. “I absolutely can feel Mama, and I don’t mean in that metaphoric way that Sehun does. I think my body is vibrating--my bones. This is crazy.”

A smile stretched out across Luhan’s face. “I told you, Chanyeol. Just wait until you actually touch the life tree.”

Sehun’s eyebrows shot up. “We can touch it?”

“Luhan.”

Luhan turned, trying not to mirror the frown on Xiumin’s face automatically. His friend had been full of smiles and laughter when they’d been younger. The change to a more mature, stoic Xiumin had been slow going, but Luhan hated it most days. He wanted to run through the halls of the palace with Xiumin just once more, and go swimming in the nearby lake with him and just be free.

“Xiumin,” Luhan echoed back. “Let me have a moment with Mama’s life tree. Tao’s already gone ahead to the palace. He’ll tell Kris before he does anything else, and Kris will come directly here, probably with half the palace guard to drag me back. I just want a couple of minutes here.”

Xiumin pursed his lips. “The color is coming back to your face, but you still don’t look good. I think we should come back later, and you should go to the palace right away to see a doctor. Lay’s probably sleeping and he can see you in the morning, but it would make me feel better if I knew you were okay.”

Slowly Luhan stretched his arms up, his fingers reaching towards the brilliant night sky. “I feel great, Xiumin. I promise you. I can feel Mama again like I’m supposed to.”

He could feel the vibrations in him like Chanyeol claimed, but it was even stronger when he breathed in deeply and simply felt her presence around him. He was feeling more solid than ever, and not incapable of standing firm on his feet without any help from Xiumin. Sometimes it felt like Luhan needed Mama’s spirit surrounding him more than he needed the oxygen he breathed in. This was one of them.

“I still think we should go back now.”

Luhan knew Xiumin meant well, but Luhan didn’t think he could afford to be parted from Mama’s life tree at the moment. Not even for the short distance to the palace. Over the past few months, but especially recently, Mama had been attempting to tell him something important. She was sentient, of that Luhan had no doubt, but she couldn’t speak to him. She couldn’t use words. She could only send him images and impressions and feelings. And everything she’d been trying to get across to him was bad.

It was worse than bad. It was the kind of stuff made of nightmares, and it was the content of the visions, not the visions themselves, that often left Luhan incapacitated. Mama was in trouble. She was scared and there was something just out of sight that was the kind of threat unlike anything they’d ever seen. He had to figure out what it was, and quickly.

Xiumin remarked, “I could just drag you back to the palace without your consent.”

Luhan tried to force a smile at his friend’s empty threat, but he was stuck now thinking about the darkness in Mama’s visions. And it was darkness. That was the best Luhan could come up with. It was a shadowy force of something evil creeping up on Mama, and she was split, trying to fight it off, and also protect her children from each other.

The war between M and K had clearly left Mama vulnerable. 

“Xiumin. Please.”

Luhan turned back to Sehun, telling him encouraging, “Of course you can touch Mama’s life tree. You have more a right than most people who come to see her. Sometimes I come out here and take my shoes off and just lay down next to her roots. My visions are stronger when I’m in contact with her.”

He needed more visions. That was for sure. They were draining and dangerous, and he knew both Kai and Kris protested them fiercely, but if he could unravel the mystery of what was speeding towards them shrouded in darkness and evil, then Luhan thought they had a real shot at fighting it off. The visions, no matter their toll on him, were worth it. Mama had clearly been trying to reach him when he’d been so far away in K. Maybe she’d send him a vision if he touched her life tree just now.

Chanyeol reminded, “You said you have fits when you have those visions. Seizures sometimes. I can feel Mama right now. I don’t want any visions, Luhan. Am I going to run the risk of that if I touch her roots?”

That was an interesting idea and Luhan answered honestly, “I’m not sure. I only know one other person who’s had visions from Mama before, but they didn’t receive them after touching her life tree. If you can feel her strongly right now, you might want to avoid touching the roots. I don’t think we’d have visions in the same way, but Mama has been trying to communicate with you through your dreams. Best to be safe and not risk it.”

Sehun bent forward to pull at the laces on his shoes. He declared, “I don’t feel anything, remember? I’m going to touch the life tree. I might not get the chance again.”

“Go on,” Luhan laughed, giving him a playful push. 

“Come with me.” Sehun reached back for him, lacing his fingers through Luhan’s. “I want you with me, Luhan.”

Luhan squeezed Sehun’s fingers back and tried not to think about the feelings that Sehun seemed to be developing for him. They were written all over the young man’s face. It was a harmless crush, he told himself. The last twinge of boyhood.

“Luhan! Luhan!”

Luhan let his hand drop from Sehun’s and he spun, recognizing Kai’s voice immediately. 

“Kai?” Were his eyes deceiving him? He didn’t think so, but it was also a little unbelievable to think that Kai was here in M. However a moment later Luhan spotted him. Kai was a short distance away, appearing out of nowhere to dash forward in a blur. The teleporter was shouting his name almost frantically, waving his arms.

“Stop, Luhan!” Kai shouted again, vanishing from sight only to take Luhan shortly off balance by appearing in front of him. He crushed Luhan into his embrace, spinning him off his feet and away from the life tree.

“Kai!” Luhan threw his arms around Kai’s neck and squeezed hard, ignoring the people watching and the spectacle they were probably making of themselves.

He loved Kai very much. It was a love so intense and passionate that he’d needed ages to come to grips with, but he couldn’t imagine his life without it now. Kai was the kind of companion he’d always dreamed of having, caring and considerate, but with more than enough combative opinions to keep Luhan engrossed in him. Sometimes they worked perfectly together, and sometimes they clashed horribly, but they always gravitated back together.

It made Luhan agreeing to marry his cousin all the more difficult. Kai was the man Luhan wanted to marry. Kai was the person that Luhan wanted to spend all his days with, and have a family with, and grow old with. In that respect, despite how much Luhan loved his cousin, Kris was a poor substitute.

“You can’t,” Kai breathed out, setting Luhan down on his feet, “touch that stupid tree.”

“Are you sick?” Luhan asked right away, bring his hand up to push at Kai’s bangs. “You look ill.”

Kai’s muscles seemed to lock up for a second, and then he was pulling Luhan into an even tighter hug, breathing out some kind of relief, saying, “I’m so sorry for what happened. I had the lock in my mind. It was safe to teleport. But then I lost it. I let myself get distracted and I lost you. I could have lost you forever.”

“I startled you,” Luhan argued back. “I made you break your concentration. You know it isn’t your fault. I would never blame you. I love you.”

It didn’t matter that they’d prepared to part with each other for good the last time they’d been together. It didn’t matter that Luhan was supposed to marry someone else and Kai shouldn’t have been there in the heart of M with a million people poised to try for the bounty currently on Kai’s head. All that mattered was that they were together again, and Luhan felt complete. With Mama and Kai, he felt whole.

“Xiumin,” Luhan called over his shoulder, catching the gaze of his wide eyed friend on the brink of attacking. “This is Kai. I know you’re confused, but please don’t attack him again. I don’t want to end up in K after just getting back here. Also, I love him very much.”

Then, ignoring Xiumin completely, and the look of disbelief on his face, Luhan captured Kai’s face in his hands and leaned in to kiss him deeply.

Nearby, Chanyeol said, “Is it always like this in M? If it’s this exciting on a daily basis I might consider relocating.”

Kai kissed him back fiercely, wrapping strong hands around Luhan’s waist.

“What are you doing here?” Luhan asked confused when he’d kissed Kai enough to make his lips ache. “It’s too dangerous.”

Xiumin came up darkly to crowd into their personal space. “Luhan,” he said slowly and darkly, “You need to explain to me right now why you’re kissing the person who kidnapped you. He’s a known soldier in K’s army and he is the enemy. You don’t want me to attack him again, but I’m finding that a difficult request to respect.”

“Never mind that,” Kai said, and Luhan sent a pleading look to Xiumin. “You have to stay away from that tree. Your prince said it’s dangerous. He sent me to stop you.”

Xiumin rolled is eyes and said in disbelief, “You and his highness were just having a friendly talk then? I highly doubt the prince would send you to do anything. He doesn’t associate with the likes of you.”

Kai asked Luhan, “This is your best friend? Really? Not as charming as you said he was.”

Kai and Xiumin would get along well in due time. Of that Luhan was certain. They had complimenting personality types when they weren’t busy growling at each other and cutting sarcastic comments. They would come to an eventual understanding that would lead to a friendship. Luhan has seen it. He knew it.

“Xiumin,” Luhan said, “I’m begging you to just hold on for a second. Kai is … very important to me. I love him.” He dropped his voice low. He was speaking treason now, or something at the very least that would destroy the love the people had for him. But he was so tired of hiding who he was and who he loved. He was tried of hiding Kai. “I love him very much. I’m in love with him, boazi.”

“In love with him,” Xiumin echoed back. There was serious look etched into his face. “Are you … being completely truthful to me?”

Luhan gave him a firm nod, then asked Kai, “Why would Kris send you to keep me away from Mama’s life tree? Kris knows better than anyone that I spend a great deal of time here, and I’m always touching her life tree.”

“No.” Kai shook his head fiercely. “You can’t touch the tree. Something is wrong with it. Someone else touched it and it almost killed them.”

“Killed?” Luhan repeated, unable to believe it. “Mama’s life tree is life, Kai. Not death.”

Chanyeol said, “I’m even more on board with the idea of not touching it now.”

“Who was hurt?” Xiumin cut in. “And I agree with you, Luhan. It’s ludicrous that the life tree would hurt someone.”

A little helplessly, Kai said, “Someone named Lay. That’s all I know.”

“Lay?” Luhan demanded, panicked. “Mama hurt Lay? How? Why?”

“I don’t know.” Kai put his hands forcefully on Luhan’s shoulders. “All I know is that he’s hurt, really bad, and it’s because he touched Mama’s life tree. The prince let me come here to try and get to you before you touched it. You can’t. The life tree could hurt you too. I am not going to let that happen.”

That just didn’t make any sense. Mama’s life tree was proof of her presence and of her love for them. It was a tree that brought them together, gave them a sense of purpose, and offered up a miracle or two from time to time. When Luhan touched the life tree’s massive roots he was always overcome with both a sense of power and that of reverence. Mama channeled herself through the tree in many ways, and Mama loved them all dearly. She wouldn’t hurt them. Even when they hurt each other, she still wouldn’t hurt them.

“Mama wouldn’t,” Luhan denied. Then dread filled him and he turned sharply, shouting, “Sehun!”

A little distance away Sehun was up near one of the life tree’s roots, a hand outstretched to touch. 

Sehun had been so impressed by the life tree. He’d been awed and practically swooning. And all Luhan could think was that he’d told Sehun that it was safe to touch the life tree. He’d pushed Sehun towards the action. 

If there was even a chance that Mama’s life tree had hurt Lay, and that she could hurt Sehun because of Luhan’s encouragement, Luhan was certain his heart would break. Because it would be his fault. 

How could he live with himself if he let Sehun, who was so precious to him now, get hurt?

“Don’t!”

Luhan lunged forward, already devastated.

“What?” Sehun asked, confounded.

“Wait.” Luhan breathed out, at his side a second later, unsure what to think of the situation. He looked back to Kai who was next to him suddenly. “Kai. I thought you said it was dangerous.”

“What’s going on?” Chanyeol asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose. The disguise he wore was convincing, but he clearly lacked the confidence to pull it off completely. “I thought you said it was dangerous.”

“What’s dangerous?” Sehun inquired. 

Luhan looked back to where Sehun was touching the life tree’s root. “That’s what Kai just said.”

Kai held up his hands defensively. “That’s what I was told, okay? I really don’t think your prince would let me come out here without more than a full unit of soldiers to pass along that kind of message if it wasn’t true. Someone was hurt by touching the life tree. Someone named Lay.”

Sehun patted the big, exposed root. “I’m not hurt right now.”

“Do you feel anything?” Luhan asked. 

“Just hungry,” Sehun laughed out. 

A little out of breath from the dash to Sehun’s side, Xiumin offered, “Maybe there was already something wrong with Lay. He spends all his time healing others, and taking care of them. He could have caught a cold and left it untreated. Maybe he was just in the wrong palace at the wrong time.”

Luhan felt a twinge of regret and guilt. Lay was seemingly always on call with him. He’d taken to sleeping in Luhan’s room once or twice a week and it shouldn’t have had to be that way. 

Xiumin reached out tentatively, putting his own hand down on the root. “I feel fine, too.”

With a firm tone, Chanyeol declared, “I’m still not touching it.”

Kai’s head cocked and for the first time he took a real look at Chanyeol. He blinked a few times, then asked, “Chanyeol? Is that you? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Long story,” Chanyeol said simply. “I’ll tell you later. Does Commander Suho know you’re sleeping with the enemy?”

Xiumin groaned and Kai had the decency to duck his head before admitting, “He knows now.”

“This,” Sehun said, looking from face to face, “is about to get very interesting, I think.” He raised a finger and pointed, alerting them all that the prince had arrived with a full squad of soldiers and was jogging the distance over to him with Tao hot on his heels.

“Luhan!” Kris called out to him. 

Sehun had said interesting, but Luhan rather thought he meant complicated. It would probably take hours just to get everything straightened out. And there was still Chanyeol and Sehun’s safety to think about. Luhan had thought he’d have enough time to present Chanyeol to Mama and receive some kind of answer in relation to him, then smuggle him out to K long before his cousin arrived. 

Mama, he thought silently, reaching out to put his hand next to where Sehun’s had been, was a little patience from everyone too much to ask for in the coming minutes?

The second that his hand made contact with the bark of the tree trunk the was assaulted with the most violent, rough and devastating vision he’d ever had in his life. It knocked him clear off his feet and he lost his senses immediately. His world went black, his body became weightless and there was a loud rush of sound in his ears before everything muted completely. 

He looked desperately around him, but everything was hazy. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, and the second he made to move forward, his body was immediately battered. He felt himself thrown roughly from side to side, pain ripping through him, making him cry out. He’d never felt anything like this from one of Mama’s visions before. It had never been like this before … like hell.

Then he could see. He could see everything.

Mama wasn’t dying. She wasn’t crumbling away piece by piece, day by day. No. she was already dead. She was a hollowed out, remnant of the past, and as time flew past Luhan, everything distorting in a static way, he saw the oceans boil over. The sun blotted out, the earth cracked, then crumbled, and finally turned to ash. 

Everyone was dying. They were screaming and burning and no one was safe. 

And the darkness, the thing that had been lurking just out of sight, was suddenly all too clear to Luhan.

Vile and twisted, the darkness struck out indiscriminately, killing everything in sight, wiping out life and hope, and leaving nothing behind. It was a monster, an ancient relic of something so long past it had been forgotten. And Luhan watched it kill everyone.

Kris was dead. Xiumin was dead. Kai was dead.

Luhan himself was dead.

Everyone was gone and Exo was a dead rock in space before the shadow moved on.

In the aftermath of the vision, as it began to wind down and Luhan felt his body ache with coherent thought, light started to come back.

Something hot blew into Luhan’s chest.

Pressure pushed on it, more hot air followed, and then Luhan was choking.

He could hear, “Please, Luhan. Please don’t do this. Please. I’m begging you.”

Everything hurt. And it hurt more than on just a physical level. To Luhan, as his senses rebounded, his heart felt heavy. It felt broken, even.

“Luhan.” The voice begging turned to sobs. “I can’t keep this up forever. I can’t … you have to … please. Just fight for me.”

He’d seen years into the future before, to times that made no sense without context, but always came to fruition. He’d seen minutes ahead as well, surprised at the shortness of time. But the vision he’d jut had felt like neither. It was neither far into the future, nor moments away. It had, however, felt absolute.

Mama would die. She would die and so would everyone else. Their future was set.

Luhan felt the rush of air again. 

And then, more unexpected than the first vision, a second came to him.

This one wasn’t violent. It wasn’t painful like the first, either. It was short, gentle, and filled simply with the feeling of hope. It was a last push from Mama, a last ditch effort to tell him how to prevent what he’d seen. To give them a fighting chance. 

He knew what he had to do. He knew who he had to talk to. It was time to start uncovering the secrets that he and another had buried so well years ago.

Mama was telling him to do it.

“Do something!” another voice shouted. 

Then, “Get out of the way!” followed, and Luhan arched up.

“Luhan?” Lay’s face looked down at him. He was pale, breathing heavily and obviously in no state to be putting his hands on Luhan in an obvious move to heal him. “Can you hear me?”

He wanted to tell Lay not to. Wasn’t Lay supposed to be hurt? How was he there, then? How was he leaning over Luhan, trying to help him?”

“I’m here,” Lay managed, bowing over to press their foreheads. “Mama said.”

She’d said what? What was Lay talking about?

Luhan was so tired.

“I’m going to help you,” Lay said, and Luhan could feel Lay’s ability work through him, already making a difference. “Mama said to come. She said you needed me.”

Mama. Luhan mulled her over in his mind. She was alive now. Even as he clung to consciousness, he could feel her all around him. She wasn’t dead yet. She was still there. 

Kai’s face slid into view next to Lay’s. “Luhan? Don’t fight him. Let him help you.”

He wanted to tell them all that he’d be okay. He’d felt bad before after visions, and though this was considerably worse, but he had faith he’d recover. He had to. Mama had shown him those things for a reason. He was strong enough to hold on until he could tell the others. 

“Sleep,” Kris urged, pushing fingers through his hair. “Sleep and rest.”

He could hardly believe the faces above him, Lay and Kai and Kris, all hovering there, not hurting each other, not attacking each other, calm and supportive.

It was the easiest request he’d ever followed. 

He woke up in his bedroom. He knew it was his bedroom by the mosaic of red and yellow tiles rippling across his ceiling. He’d spent ages just staring up at it in the past, memorizing ever pattern, every detail, and finding comfort in the color scheme. As far as he knew his ceiling was unique to his room.

Disoriented, he turned to the side, feeling a heavy weight across his hand. Lay was on the bed next to him, curled onto his side facing Luhan, their fingers threaded. That was normal. And even more normal was Xiuimin’s form curled up on the chair next to the bed. Everything seemed like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.

At least until he inched is head the other direction, and saw for the first time Sehun snoring in his bed, Kris across the room sleeping on the settee by the window, and Chanyeol just visible from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in one of Luhan’s many books. He didn’t seem to be aware that he wasn’t the only one awake.

Then the door to his bedroom cracked open and Chen slipped through silently, followed by Tao.

It was easy to close his eyes and pretend to be asleep once more. It didn’t dull the pain in his body any, but it bought him a little extra time to hide from the reality of what he’d experienced.

“Your highness?” Luhan could hear Tao whisper, probably shaking Kris’ shoulder. “You asked me to wake you when it’s time to get ready for your speech. “You’ve got about an hour before you’re expected.”

The rustling of clothing reached Luhan’s ears as Kris asked, “Is Luhan still out?”

Luhan held perfectly still, controlling his breathing. 

“Looks like it. And he’ll probably be asleep for a while longer. Come on. I’ll help you dress. Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”

After that Tao and Kris were talking too quietly to be heard, and Luhan thought it probably had something to do with Chanyeol being awake and alert in the room.

“Should I stay here?” Luhan heard Chanyeol asked. “With Sehun?” It was probably a miracle that they were alright and no one was fighting. There was no way their cover had held until this long.

With a weary sigh, Kris said, “Luhan’s gone ahead and granted you diplomatic immunity. I’m going to honor that, no matter how much I don’t want to. But I expect you to keep out of sight. Who knows how people will react to knowing I have you here, in this very palace.”

Kris was too tired to fight. Luhan could tell from the way he spoke, and how slowly he was moving. On a better day he might have been more combative, or at the least had an issue with keeping Chanyeol in the same room as Lay or himself. But after all that had happened, there didn’t seem to be much fight left in Kris. 

“I don’t think you have to worry about me setting the place on fire,” Chanyeol remarked. “I’m wearing one of your fancy bracelets. And I wouldn’t risk hurting Luhan or Sehun.”

“Luhan,” Kris eased out, and then Luhan could feel dry lips pressing against his forehead. “Forgive me.”

“What’s going on?” Xiumin asked, which meant he was awake and Luhan’s time to hide was dwindling by the second. Xiumin could always spot when he was faking it.

“I’m taking his highness to prepare for his speech,” Tao said. “I want you to bring Chanyeol to our guest suite and keep him hidden there. We don’t want it getting out here’s here. People won’t understand the reason behind it. The kid can stay. He’s less of a threat than the rest of them, not to mention he isn’t military. And he’s about as stubborn about Luhan as Xiumin is.”

“The suite with the other two from K?”

Luhan’s heart picked up. Kai. He had to be talking about Kai. And a suite was a far cry from the holding cell Luhan had feared Kris had put Kai into. But who was the second person if Kai was the first?

Tao made a sound of agreement. “Chen will stay here, to look over Luhan, and you’ll be responsible for the others.”

“I’d rather stay here,” Xiumin responded immediately.

“I would too, actually,” Chanyeol added. 

“Enough,” Kris said, voice authoritative in the room. “This isn’t the time to squabble or fight over who goes where. Xiumin, just do as you’re told. I don’t have time for this.”

A few second more and the room was quiet again, with only the sounds of breathing and feet pacing the floor to occupy Luhan’s ears.

He had to get up. That’s what he told himself, but even opening his eyes seemed a chore now. His body ached, his head was pounding, and he felt beyond lethargic, but he had to act on what Mama had shown him. He had to tell the other and he had to be quick about it.

“Chen.” Luhan opened his eyes, shook Lay’s hand free, and sat up.

Chen was pale with relief. “Are you okay?”

With a gasp next to him Lay shot up in bed, fumbling for Luhan’s hand almost instinctively.

“It’s okay,” Luhan breathed out to him, enfolding him in a hug. “Lay. It’s okay.”

Lay took in deep breaths, eyes a little wild. “Sorry.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Luhan asked, looking him over. “I was scared when Kai said you’d been hurt. By Mama’s life tree? Badly? Tell me everything.”

Chen inched forward as Lay said, “I went to Mama’s life tree to pray. I wanted to pray for your safe return. And when I touched the roots I felt something … horrible, I guess. Mama felt like she was in pain, and I reacted. I tried to heal her instinctively. That’s all I remember. That and the pain. Then I woke up here, in the palace, because I knew you needed me.”

“How?”

“Mama,” Lay offered with a shrug. “I felt better, too. Sort of like I’d been healed. And all I knew was that Mama had woken me, and she was pushing me towards her life tree because you needed me. I knew to come, without knowing how I knew. Does that make sense?”

Luhan mustered up a smile. “Oddly enough, yes. I know things all the time from Mama, and I can’t explain how I know them.”

Sehun shifted on the bed, still sleeping heavily.

“Luhan,” Lay asked gently. “What did you see in your vision?”

There was something weird about the way Lay was looking at him. And both he and Chen were being far more careful with their actions and words than they usually were. It made him ask bluntly, “What’s wrong?”

Chen grimaced. “Your visions usually send you into some weird catatonic state that mostly just freaks us all out, I mean, after you’re done seizing. But this time …”

Lay cut in smoothly, “You were screaming. A lot. This was different.”

“You stopped breathing,” Chen said. “That guy, Kai, he was breathing for you until Lay got there to jumpstart you. You can’t sit there and tell either one of us that this vision wasn’t different. Your screams … I’ve never heard anything like it before. You were screaming like you were dying. Maybe you were.”

Lay smoothed a hand over Luhan’s bangs affectionately. “That man, Kai, he knew basic first aid and he performed it without heasitation. Chen wasn’t lying when he said that Kai kept you alive for several minutes. He kept you breathing.”

“Kai,” Luhan mumbled. “Where’s Kai?”

Dismissively, Chen said, “He’s technically our prisoner, but not even his highness can discredit the fact that he saved your life with his quick actions. And he could have taken off with you again if he wanted to. He stayed, and he didn’t fight. So I repeat, technically he’s a prisoner of war, and unofficially he’s hanging out with his friend, in one of our suites until his highness makes his speech and decides what to do with him.”

Luhan pushed at Lay, demanding, “Let me up. I need to go see him.”

“I hardly think you’re in any condition--”

“Let me up,” Luhan thundered, not caring at all if he woke Sehun. “I need to see him. I need to …”

Slowly, Chen said, “You need to stay away from him. Ah, Luhan, don’t give me that look, please. I know the two of you are having this big love affair, but you need to think about your cousin. That speech he’s about to make? None of us know for sure, but he might call for the withdrawal of troops in K. He might propose the end of the push for unification. He’s got you back now, and he never wanted to go to war in the first place. You have to put on a convincing show to support him, and win the people over to his thinking if that’s what he goes for. You can’t be seen with anyone else. You need to protect his highness right now. Not hurt him.”

Luhan thought those words over. Kris was considering ending the war? Luhan had always known how little Kris favored the war, but ending it? It was almost too good to believe.

“What about his father?” Luhan asked. “What about the king?”

Lay shook his head. “He’s a day away from death. Maybe less. There might be just enough time for his highness to propose ending the war, marry you, and secure his power. That’s if you support him and do what he’s hoping you will. It’s what he’s trusting you’ll do.”

Luhan was at peace with the idea of marrying Kris. He didn’t want to, and Kai held his heart without question, but he’d always known his place. In fact, he’d known for quite some time that his parents, and Kris’ parents, had deliberately planned their births with the hopes that a match could be made. He was going to marry Kris. Of that Luhan was sure.

Luhan repeated one more time, “Let me up,” and then surged to his feet as Chen pulled him up strongly.

“What’re you doing?” Lay asked.

It was hard to get his balance, and he swayed more than a couple of times, but Lay had apparently worked wonders with his gift. Luhan thought at least he could manage the walk to the guest suites. 

“I’m going to see Kai firstly, and neither of you are going to stop me.” He had to explain things. He had to … apologize.

“Then?” Chen asked.

Luhan readied himself. “I’m going to come back here, and you two are going to help me look … better than how I look now. I’ll get dressed, I’ll calm myself down, and then I’ll go and I’ll stand by my cousin’s side as he makes his speech. We’ll tell the people that in light of the war, and the risk it poses, we were married in secret. We’ll give them the wedding they want afterwards.”

Sehun grunted suddenly, sitting up with glazed over sleep eyes. 

“But you’re not married,” Lay pointed out.

“We will be,” Luhan countered. “Right after, just before the king dies.”

“You think his highness is going to go for that?” Chen wondered.

Luhan was sure of it. “It’s what he’s wanted. And it doesn’t matter if he’s announcing the end to the war, or his full support of it. He needs me there. He needs our marriage. And I’ve always understood what my duties are. Don’t misunderstand, Lay.”

“What’s going on?” Sehun demanded, fear cracking his voice. 

“Stay here, okay?” Luhan said, feeling a surge of protectiveness. “I have to go talk to Kai, but then I’ll come right back to you. You’ll be fine until then. I promise.”

Disgruntled, Sehun said, “I’m not a kid. You don’t have to talk to me like I’m one.”

Almost playfully, Chen offered, “Don’t take it personal. Luhan’s older than all of us, except for Xiumin, and even that doesn’t matter when it comes to him babying us.”

“Let’s go,” Lay said, looping an arm around Luhan. He could feel Lay’s power bleeding into him once more, making him stronger and keeping his legs steady.

It was a short distance from Luhan’s personal rooms to the guest suite Kai was currently confined to, but by the time he and Lay reached their destination Luhan was breathing hard.

“Will you tell us all about your vision after this?” Lay asked as they paused outside the door. “Luhan, I’m very serious when I say that you scared us all to death. Your screams … they were terrifying.”

“I will,” Luhan said, reaching for the door. “I promise, Lay. When everyone is together, and I only have to say it once, I’ll tell you all everything.” And then maybe, if they were very lucky, they’d be able to come up with some sort of plan.

“Luhan!”

Once more, as if Kai secretly knew how much he loved it, the second he was in sight Kai was pulling him off his feet, holding them tight and turning them in a circle without a care in the world.

“Calm down,” Luhan laughed out, letting himself get lost in the moment. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“No way,” Kai argued, laughing himself. “I’ve spun you way more than this before.”

Settling down, Luhan hugged him tightly, mumbling into his ear, “I’m so glad you’re okay. I wasn’t sure that Kris would … respect my wishes in that department.”

“I don’t like the guy,” Kai said bluntly, pepping a small kiss down onto the corner of Luhan’s mouth. “And I know he doesn’t like me. But I think we’re sort of starting to understand each other.”

From behind them a voice cleared, and a man said, “You must be Luhan, then. Considering the fact that my best friend is head over heels in love with you, this isn’t exactly the way I wanted to meet you.”

“Best friend?” Luhan questioned, looking around Kai at the shorter boy. “Oh! You must be D.O.. I’ve been dying to meet you. Kai talks a lot about you. I kind of feel like I already know you.”

D.O. looked surprised, and Luhan felt it was such a missed opportunity that they hadn’t been able to properly cultivate a friendship just yet.

Kai said, “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but you were in bad shape the last time we were together. Should you be up?”

Luhan gestured back to Lay who was waiting for him in the doorway. “I happen to have access to someone with a healing gift. Lay got me back on my feet, and that’s all that matters.”

“And your cousin just let you come waltzing down here?” Kai leaned close, his breath warm on Luhan’s ear. “You scared the life out of me. You stopped breathing and I have never felt so much fear and panic in my life.”

Here it was. The moment that Luhan knew had to happen, but dreaded.

Holding back words for a moment, he tilted his head up for a deep, longing kiss. His fingers curling around the material of Kai’s shirt and he closed his eyes, wanting to cherish every second.

“Wow,” Kai breathed out. “What was that for?”

He felt his eyes grow wet, and as Kai’s face turned concerned, Luhan said, “I’m so sorry, Kai. But there’s something I have to do very shortly, and it’s going to hurt the both of us.”

Later on, as Luhan stood in front of Kris, their hands clasped as they recited their marriage vows, all Luhan could think of was the look of devastation on Kai’s face when he told him he still planned to go through with his marriage. And when the ceremony was practically over, and Kris was leaning in for a kiss, Luhan was filled with the knowledge that Kai would never kiss him again, or hold him in his arms, or tell him how much he loved him. 

“You’re crying,” Kris said, reaching out to rub away the wetness on Luhan’s cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Luhan promised, but his heart ached. No matter what happened with Mama, Luhan didn’t think his heart would ever be whole again. It couldn’t be.


	11. Baekhyun

“Well now,” Baekhyun said slowly, his weary eyes glued to the video feed in front of him, “this is unexpected.” Next to him Suho nodded numbly. 

In the war room all eyes were turned to nearby monitors, watching the prince of M address his people, his hand holding tight to that of the man he claimed to have just married. Luhan. 

The newly named prince consort was looking healthy and completely at ease as he smiled and waved and proclaimed his support for his husband’s future plans. He certainly didn’t look kidnapped.

Quietly, so only Baekhyun could hear, Suho asked, “He’s supposed to be kidnapped, isn’t he? That’s what M thinks?”

It was certainly no surprise to Baekhyun that Luhan had come through everything perfectly fine. Luhan was … resilient, in a word. He could bounce back from practically anything, and he had the best luck of anyone Baekhyun had ever known. Not that he knew Luhan … per say. It was complicated, honestly, to say he both knew and didn’t know Luhan.

Luhan likely would have called them friends anyway.

“To the best of their knowledge,” Baekhyun confirmed. “Maybe we don’t give Kai enough credit.”

Suho scoffed. “This isn’t Kai. Kai didn’t magically pull Luhan out of thin air. This is … a damned miracle. That’s what this is. Now maybe M will get off our asses about something we didn’t do in the first place.”

Baekhyun didn’t think for one second that Suho believed Luhan being recovered was enough to end the war. Not with the way M’s king had been pushing against them for years. But it was a start.

“Wait,” Baekyhun said, leaning forward to listen to the video feed. For the past few minutes the prince had been talking about his marriage, and how thrilled he was to share it with the people in a time of war, much to an ovation that had lasted longer than Baekhyun had expected. But it was clear now that he was speaking about something else, Baekyhun just couldn’t hear over the chatter in the war room.

“Quiet!” Suho barked out.

It was just quick enough for them to hear the prince confess, “My father has fallen ill as of late, and he isn’t expected to survive for very much longer. My heart is heavy with the news, but I’m also optimistic that Luhan and I will continue his legacy of providing you with prosperity and more than that, security.”

“The king is sick,” Baekhyun echoed out. He turned to Suho. “Did you know that?”

Suho shook his head. “I had no clue.” 

The king passing was probably the best news they could have hoped for. It was obvious to all parties that the prince was weaker than the king, and his rule would be as well. That gave K a clear advantage, especially if the prince was toting his marriage as a buffer from the king’s health.

“We should move on this,” Baekhyun advised, tearing his eyes away from the screen. “K is about to enter a transitional period. We should take advantage of this. It might be the only reprieve we get before M’s troops are at our front door.”

Awe in Suho’s eyes, he told Baekhyun, “I think there’s a very real possibility that I’m hearing something incredible right now.”

“Pandering?” Baekhyun suggested, pulling up the deployment patterns of their troops on his pad. “Sir, we may finally have the manpower to strike back at M. We’ve been thus far on the defensive. It’s time to go offensive and be bold.”

“Baekhyun.” Suho nudged him. “Are you listening?”

The prince … as Baekhyun focused on the broadcast once more, he realized the prince was talking about his personal standards for his people.

“Willingness,” the prince said, his voice ringing through the war room. “And choice. These are the things that must define us as a country. All citizens must be willing to give everything they can to making us as prosperous as possible, but it also must be a choice. In this I differ from my father, and I did not make the following decision lightly. But M must be comprised of people who love their throne and country, and who wish to protect it. Of their own volition.”

Luhan cut in, beaming, “Loyalty cannot be forced. It has to be cultivated and nourished. In that regard, we do not want this war to continue, if the end result will be the forced indoctrination of an otherwise combative group of people.”

“They’re ending the war,” Suho said, looking shaken. “That’s what he’s saying, right? Baekhyun, tell me I’m not hearing things.”

The prince continued, “Effective immediately M will begin to pull out of any territory that is considered K. It is time for our soldiers to come home and to end this long war. I ask for your confidence in this.”

Suho asked Baekhyun, “This is on a time delay, isn’t it?”

“Over an hour,” Baekyhun confirmed. “It was a live broadcast in M, but it took some time to get to us. I think we’re the first to see this here in K. We’re likely the only ones who know.”

The end to the war seemed more like a fairytale. It seemed like something that they always hoped would happen, but never really trusted or believed would. At least not without one or both sides being completely wiped out. The notion that M was willingly ending the war on their side was … remarkable.

“Sir,” Baekhyun edged out, eyebrows pulling high. “Will you be accepting the end of the war? Or will we be striking back?” There was always the chance that Suho, who could be completely unpredictable at times, would take the opportunity to strike at M. 

“I want to,” Suho admitted. “I want to wait until their backs are turned and they’re unsuspecting, and I want to crush them. I know it’s petty of me, and without honor, but too long we’ve been under M’s heel.”

“But?” Baekhyun prompted. 

Suho sighed. “My responsibility to K is very clear. I’m the commander, and I’m expected to lead K to freedom from tyranny. M is offering that to us, and I would be a fool not to take it. I have to. I don’t want to lose any more of our people to something that can be prevented.”

“Sir?” Both Suho and Baekhyun turned as a young woman made her way across the room to relay, “There’s a secure communication incoming from M.”

“That’ll be the prince,” Suho eased out. He picked at his cufflink for a second, then said, “I’ll take it in my private office. Baekhyun, come with me. You should be there too.”

The first thing the prince said once the transmission came through, was, “I’m sure by now you’ve heard.”

“I have,” Suho said, clearly uneasy before Baekhyun’s eyes. “I want to know why. Why now?”

The prince said stoically, “Because I’m sure you’re just as tired of fighting as I am. Because our people deserve better, and because I’m not my father and I don’t share the same beliefs as he does. I have my cousin back, and he’s no worse for wear. He’s assured me that you had no part in his disappearance, and I believe him.”

“You have the power to pull your soldiers out of K?”

Suho was picking at the prince’s words from the transmission, trying to determine if the king was really as ill as had been claimed. Baekyhun didn’t doubt the validity of the words, but it would be nice to have a little verbal conformation in private.

“My father won’t last the night,” the prince said. “When he dies, with the people rallying behind me, and Luhan as my support, I’ll take complete control of M. My coronation will be held in less than a week, and I assure you, I very much have the power to command M’s troops at will. My word is absolute.”

Baekhyun prompted Suho quietly, “We’ll need a formal treaty, Commander.”

Suho snapped to, saying, “You and I will need to meet, naturally, to put onto paper the verbal agreement to the end of the war that we have here. It will need to be somewhere neutral, where both parties feel safe.”

“No.” Immediately the prince shook his head. “I can’t travel away from the palace right now. You’ll have to come here.”

There was an itch of nervousness under Baekhyun’s skin as Suho said, “You can’t honestly believe that I’d be stupid enough to waltz into M territory before the ink is dry on a peace treaty.”

“I’m not going to attack you,” the prince said tersely. “But there is something else, other than the peace treaty, that we need to speak about, and it has to be in M. We have to be near Mama’s life tree. It’s not my choice, if that makes you any happier. My husband is insisting up on it.”

“I won’t go to M before we have a formal arrangement of peace,” Suho said, obviously not planning to budge by the tightness of his voice. “And I want to talk about two of my men who should be in your custody by now. Kai and D.O.. They acted without my permission, but with everyone’s best interest. I need to know if they’re still alive.”

A voice shouted off camera, “Let me talk to him! No, seriously! I can help.”

“Kai?” Suho asked, and Baekhyun felt the tiniest bit of hope. 

The prince moved aside and suddenly Kai was there, looking unhurt and maybe a little pale, but healthy. “It’s me,” he shouted into the camera. “Suho! D.O. and I are just fine. And no, Luhan wanting you to come to M for the peace talks isn’t a trap. I swear to you. You have to be here. Something even bigger than the war is about to go down.”

Not that he wanted to believe it, Baekhyun felt justified in telling Suho, “We have to consider he’s being coerced into saying these things.”

“Get out of the way.”

Kai was pushed sharply to the side and Chanyeol invaded the screen, calling out, “Baekhyun? Are you there? You probably are. You follow Suho around like a little puppy.”

Surprise lit through Baekhyun. “Chanyeol?” He leaned forward so he was within the camera’s view as well. “Are you at M’s palace? What are you doing there?”

Chanyeol grinned brightly. “It’s a long story, and I barely believe it myself. But yes, I’m here. And I’m okay. I can backup anything that Kai says. You have to be here, Baekhyun. Crazy stuff is about to go down.”

Baekhyun eased out with a grimace, “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem … on edge.”

Chanyeol gave a firm nod. “I’m perfectly fine, Baekhyun. I might be getting a little high off the life tree though, to be completely honest. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

“Excuse me,” a soft voice said. “I need to speak to Baekhyun.”

Blinking a little bewilderedly, Baekhyun was surprised to see Chanyeol replaced with Luhan’s youthful face. 

“Luhan,” Baekhyun greeted. “You’re looking well.”

“Baekhyun,” Luhan returned. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Out of range of the camera, the prince could be heard asking, “Luhan? How do you know him?”

Suho mumbled, “I’d like to know the same thing.”

“This is a little awkward,” Baekhyun admitted to Luhan, a smile pulling at his mouth over the situation. “But not really. Right?”

Luhan grinned back. “It’s always a little awkward for me when I meet someone outside of my dreams, especially those that I’ve known well inside. But I must admit, it’s not often that they recognize me back.”

It would be impossible not to recognize Luhan. After all, they’d been sharing dreams for years. Luhan was the only person that Baekhyun had ever shared a dream with, and almost every time he went to bed, unless he was utterly exhausted or ill, Luhan would be there. And so was Mama’s influence. 

Maybe that was the point of Luhan dream sharing with him. 

“What’s going on?” Baekhyun asked. “We agreed never to contact each other out of our dreams, for obvious reasons.”

“No,” Luhan said. “We agreed except for one reason and one reason alone.”

“You had a vision about the darkness?” Baekhyun asked, completely absorbed in his conversation with Luhan. He could feel Suho practically searing into him with his gaze, and everyone on Luhan’s side was likely listening closely, but none of that mattered. Not if Luhan was insinuating what Baekhyun thought he might be. “You know more about it?”

Luhan said somberly, “I had the most intense vision from Mama that I’ve ever had. The darkness lurking nearby isn’t just docile anymore, Baekhyun. It’s on the move, and Mama is currently defenseless. Commander Suho must come here for the peace treaty, but I need you to come as well, and bring the book.”

“It’s not safe to take the book from its hiding place,” Baekhyun argued, more afraid than he’d ever been. Years ago, when Mama had urged him to hide the most precious possession their planet would ever see, Baekyhun had done so with the knowledge that if it was ever needed, more than just their lives were at stake. 

“It’s not safe for you to be so isolated now,” Luhan said. “You’re in danger, Baekhyun. The darkness is surging up, and you’ll be nothing but a beacon of light to it. You need to be here, where we can protect you.”

“Wait, wait,” Suho cut in, “I’m confused. What’s going on?”

“You’re not the only one,” D.O. audibly remarked.

“Is Baekhyun in danger?” Chanyeol demanded, leaning in close next to Luhan. “Is that what you’re saying? How?”

Luhan promised with a strain, “Baekhyun and I will explain everything when he and Commander Suho get here.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Suho said stubbornly. 

“But you will,” Luhan said with confidence. “Because if you stay there, you won’t know what Mama has shown me about our future. You won’t know how much trouble we’re really in, and you’ll be exposing Baekhyun to almost certain death.”

“How?” Suho demanded at the same time as Chanyeol.

Baekhyun ignored all the shouts and asked Luhan, “How can I be in danger? I haven’t used my ability in years. I’ve laid low, and not drawn any attention to myself. Mama’s warning was that I’d be in danger if I used her gift. I’ve been very careful.” It was his greatest secret, something he’d never told Chanyeol, whom he told everything to. He was constantly pushed and prodded to use his ability, or to take a more active role in Suho’s military, but he’d held his ground and done nothing. He’d been a whisper of a man for the most part, in order to remain safe.

Kindly, Luhan said, “The light is in your soul, Baekhyun. And Mama’s too weak to shield you now. I can help protect you if you come here, and I need to book to help explain what’s going on. I’m starting to put all the pieces together, and I need your help. The time for us fighting each other is over. We need to be a united front. Commander Suho, do you understand what I’m trying to impart on you?”

“You’re asking a lot,” Suho said with a loud exhale. “You’re asking a lot of faith and blind trust.”

The prince cut in to say to Suho, almost startling Baekhyun, “I’ve been a witness to the last vision that Mama sent to Luhan, and it nearly killed him. The content … this coming darkness, whatever it is, is bigger than you or I. We have to be on the same page, and you have my word that as long as you’re in M, no harm will come to you or anyone you bring with you. I think the fact that I have several of your men here and haven’t harmed them in the slightest, speaks a great deal for the future I want M and K to have.”

For years Baekhyun had known about the darkness, the same as Luhan, but neither of them had truly been able to work out what it was, other than a lingering threat. They’d both always known that something much greater than M and K’s inability to coexist was on the horizon, and that one day they’d need to unite. Baekhyun just hadn’t thought the day would come so quickly, or involve so many people he cared about.

“Please,” Luhan pleaded. “Both of you must come here. We don’t have much time.”

It must have taken some leap of faith for Suho to say, “I’ll forward you my itinerary once I have transportation worked out. But when I do get there, and when our peace accord is signed, I want a full explanation. You’re asking me to go against my instincts here.”

There were only a few more words to be said, and then the call was over, leaving Baekhyun and Suho in silence.

Baekhyun cleared his throat nervously.

“So you know the prince’s new husband,” Suho remarked. “Is there anything else you forgot to mention?”

Baekhyun bowed deeply to Suho, saying, “I only kept the things from you that were absolutely necessary. Luhan and I … have a complicated relationship. I’ll explain everything to you, but never doubt that I’ve always been loyal to you, and to K’s cause. But Luhan is right. This is bigger than just two groups of people fighting each other. The sooner we get going to M, the sooner I can help clue you in.”

But first he had to get the book.

Years ago Baekhyun had hidden the book in a secret space directly underneath the bathroom sink in his quarters. There were a couple of tiles that slid loose if you shifted them forcefully enough, with a damp but sizeable hiding space as the reward. The book in question had been wrapped in protective plastic and stashed there with Baekhyun’s hope that he would never have to look at it again. 

Or that Chanyeol would never mistakenly come across it. Chanyeol had a way of mucking things up unintentionally. 

Suho put a firm hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder and squeezed. “I need answers.”

“I don’t know much,” Baekhyun said honestly, and it really was the truth. Luhan was maybe the only one who truly knew what was going on, but Baekhyun understood Suho’s need to regain control of the situation. “But if you come with me, I’ll tell you everything I know. I have to assume that Luhan will be filling everyone on his side in on what I’m about to tell you.”

“Let’s go then,” Suho said, clearly satisfied and gesturing for them to start walking. 

In the safety of the quarters he shared with Chanyeol, the bed sheets still rumpled from the last time they’d been in it, lounging around and killing time by making out, Baekhyun confided, “It only started a few years ago. At least on my end. To the best of my knowledge, Mama has been in contact with Luhan almost all his life, though it’s only just recently started to effect his health. For me, however, the dreams didn’t start until a little after I reached maturity and developed my ability.”

“Dreams?” Suho questioned.

Almost carelessly, as Baekhyun pulled at the tiles in the bathroom, he said, “Luhan and I share dreams. Almost exclusively. If he’s asleep and I’m asleep at the same time, we’re dreaming together. But they’re not prophetic dreams or precognitive. They’re not the same as the visions of the future that Luhan gets. They’re just dreams, and they started innocently enough with me not even realizing that he was more than just a figment of my imagination as I slept. It may or may not be the same for him.”

As Baekhyun pulled a tile up, Suho asked, “You didn’t think it would be prudent to tell anyone that you’re dream sharing with someone from M? Probably M’s most powerful special?”

“I didn’t know I was dream sharing with him at first, remember? And then when I figured it out, I was scared that I’d be accused of betraying K in some way, or leaking our secrets.”

A hurt tone in his voice, Suho said, “I never would have accused you of something like that, Baekhyun. I’ve told you some of my most precious secrets, and you know more in some cases than the officers ranked above you.”

Simply, Baekhyun said, “You weren’t the Commander at the time.” He paused, cleared his throat, and then continued, “Then Luhan and I started having the same recurring dream over and over. We’d usually have all sorts of different dreams in a week, but there was one that just stuck, and oddly enough, in a way I can’t really explain to you, it always felt very important.”

“What were you doing in the dream?”

Baekhyun lifted another tile free, now actually excited to see the book once more. He was scared, too, but he couldn’t deny the urge to hold it in his hands again.

He told Suho, “In the dream Luhan and I were always just walking along one of K’s beaches. We’d walk for ages, it seemed like, our toes in the wet sand. And eventually we’d come upon a very distinct rock formation leading into an underground cavern. I remember I always wanted to go in, in the dream, but Luhan wanted to wait until we could do it in real life. In the end we always just stood there talking until we woke up.”

Suho wondered, “What’s so special about that dream?”

“Because Luhan and I weren’t just talking to each other,” Baekhyun confessed. “We were also talking to Mama, too. Eventually we started having the dream less and less, and because of our circumstances, Luhan and I swore never to contact each other outside of our dreams, not unless we were all in peril. And we made one final compromise. Because Luhan couldn’t go searching for the cave from where he was, it fell on me, and it took me a while before I actually found it. Longer still before I was brave enough to go in by myself.”

“You found something?” Suho guessed.

Almost reverently Baekhyun pulled the book pull free, unwrapping it from its protective casing and holding it up for Suho to see clearly. 

“I found this, Suho.” Baekhyun ran a finger over the worn binding. “In the deepest part of the cave, where I could barely breathe, this had been hidden away there.”

“A book,” Suho said flatly.

Baekhyun carefully pressed it into Suho’s hands, saying, “Right around the time Luhan and I started realizing our shared dreams were something of the utmost importance, Mama would whisper warnings to me. I mean, obviously she didn’t speak to me with words, but you and I both know there are ways to get across strong messages without actually using words. And Mama’s message was clear. I had to hide the book and I had to hide myself--my ability.”

Baekhyun could tell Suho was holding back some sort of commentary on the matter, and it was a while more before he said, “I never asked you, right? Why you refused to use your ability. I just accepted that it wasn’t something you wanted to do and didn’t pry. But now you’re telling me Mama said not to, and that’s why you’ve been living your life like you don’t have a gift.”

“It is.“ Baekhyun nodded. “Because there is something evil in this world, Suho. It’s sentient just like Mama, and she’s been fighting against it for hundreds of years without us ever knowing. This evil, manifested in the shadows, is drawn to the light. It would be drawn to me if I used my ability, Suho. I’d be like a beacon, and Mama wouldn’t be able to protect me.”

“Okay,” Suho eased out, leaning back a little as he kneeled on the ground next to Baekhyun. “But what’s so special about this book?”

“It’s our history.” Baekhyun opened it for him, turning the delicate pages as gently as he could. “We look around at the people with Mama’s gift and we think they’re so small in number. Maybe one hundred and fifty from M and K respectively, right? But I’ve been through this book, and I’ve shared what’s in it with Luhan. There only used to be twelve, Suho. In the whole of Exo, there were twelve people with Mama’s gifts. They were her guardians. They protected Mama and Exo, and were revered for that.”

Baekhyun paused on a page of the book with twelve symbols. Suho lifted an eyebrow and asked a little skeptically, “Twelve guardians?”

“Twelve in every generation,” Baekhyun clarified, “with gifts and abilities given to them by Mama to help her fight off the shadows.”

“But we don’t know what these shadows are?” Suho challenged.

“No.” That was the bigger mystery. He and Luhan had known something was very wrong with Mama for quite some time, but they’d both let themselves get distracted by the war between M and K. Maybe they’d just taken for granted Mama’s strength and resilience. “We don’t know what they are, where they came from, or what’s changed this time around.”

“Changed?”

Baekhyun tapped the page. “There used to be twelve a generation, remember? They were respected and it was a position of great honor. But then something happened and no more guardians were awakened so long that we forgot about them. Generations and generations worth of time. Now obviously there are far more than twelve now, and what have we done with our gifts? Used them to wage war on each other.”

Suho frowned, then asked him seriously, “You really believe all this?”

“I believe,” Baekhyun said, “that Mama is getting weaker for some reason, and the shadows are getting stronger. If Luhan thinks that it’s time to pull the book out, and share everything we know, this is more than just serious.”

Suho deadpanned, “You’re asking me to believe that some malevolent, evil shadow creature-thing is hell bent on destroying the world. That’s what I think you’re saying, and you have to know how it sounds.”

“You shoot water out of your hands and can control it. Chanyeol can conjure up a phoenix. Kai teleports. And with Mama, who is the greatest force of good on this planet that we know of existing, you really think that there isn’t something equally as evil? Or do you just think I’m completely delusional? Be honest.”

Suho took a deep breath and then let it out. “I believe in what I know and can see. I believe in our abilities because I have proof of them every second of every day. Even Mama can be proven. But all the proof I have from you about this evil shadow thing that apparently is going to wage war on all of us, is a few dreams that only you and one other person have experienced. People fight people, Baekhyun. And people use Mama’s gifts to kill each other. That’s the truth of the world we live in. Why can’t that be enough?”

“Will you believe when the ground is rotting right under your feet because Mama is dead? We can’t survive without her. She sustains our world.”

“Where is this darkness hiding then?” Suho pressed. “Let’s just go kick its ass.”

“If it were that simple, don’t you think Mama would have taken care of it by now?”

Suho looked unimpressed with everything he’d been told, and Baekhyun only knew one other way to impress upon him the seriousness and truthfulness of the situation.

“Just suspend your disbelief for a moment,” Baekhyun requested, then he worked open the buttons at the top of his uniform. A second later he was clad in his undershirt, arms bared to Suho as he turned one towards him. “See the skin? It’s smooth, right?”

“Yes,” Suho drawled slowly.

“Now look at what happens when I put my hand on this book.” Baekhyun lowered is palm to the page adjacent to the symbols, and waited, praying to Mama for the proof he needed.

Suho’s jaw dropped open slightly. “Okay. I’m a little bit more inclined to believe what you’re saying.”

“It only happens when I touch the book,” Baekhyun explained, flexing his bicep, the skin now marked by black ink. The image on his arm was exactly identical to the one of the twelve that was on the page. “And it marks me as a guardian, or maybe the descendent of one. That’s probably why Mama’s been in contact with me through my dreams with Luhan.”

Suho’s eyes flickered between Baekhyun’s skin and the book. “What else does this book say?”

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun flipped to another page. “It’s written in a language I don’t understand, one of the dead languages. I’ve just been deciphering the pictures the best I can, including what Mama has been able to leak out of her current state to both myself and Luhan.”

“Then how can we fight?” Suho asked a bit desperately. “You’re asking us to fight something we don’t know about.”

“I know enough to get us started on the right trail,” Baekhyun said, and without warning he reached forward, unbuttoning Suho’s shirt. “I have very good intuition thanks to Mama, and she wouldn’t have guided me towards you if you weren’t important.”

“What are you doing?” Suho said, but then he was quiet, eyes locked to the patch of skin at his collar, just above his undershirt, that was now inked. “What is that?”

Baekhyun was certain he was on the right trail. “It’s possible Mama conserved her energy for a long time, and she didn’t create any guardians so that when the time came, she could have hundreds of them to fight the darkness. But instead of fighting that darkness, we fought each other. That’s what I think, and so does Luhan. Plus, Luhan is at the center of it all, because he’s the most sensitive to Mama, and all the rest of us are linked to him. We can find our way by following him.”

“This all sounds like a bedtime story,” Suho grunted out. He looked back down at the symbol on his skin.

“You wanted proof,” Baekhyun said. “I’m giving you the first part of it. If we go to M, and we unite with the other guardians, then you’ll have the rest of it.”

“You think I’m a guardian. And you think there are others, too.”

“I do. You have the mark, the same as me. Mama pushed me towards you from the start. And I think certain several others will have them, too.”

Slowly Suho stood, straightening his shoulders. “Nothing can ever be easy, can it? We just got done fighting a war.”

“We fought that war for our independence,” Baekhyun remarked. “The next one we fight will be for our lives.” 

Closing the book, Suho handed it back to Baekhyun and said, “If I choose to believe what you’re saying, about there being so called guardians and Mama and this darkness, then I guess I don’t have any choice but to go to M, and hope we can figure out what’s going on.”

Baekhyun hugged the book to his chest. “I’ll make the travel arrangements.”

Suho gave him a nod. “I want to leave within the hour, after I issue a statement to our people about the end of the war. Democracy will have to wait just a little longer.”


	12. Kris

With a level gaze and a look of complete ease, Luhan promised, “I’m fine, Kris. You don’t need to worry.”

Of course Kris knew it was a lie right away. Luhan hadn’t been able to successfully lie to him in ages, but it was probably just as long since he’d tried. Of everyone in his life, he was probably the most honest with Luhan, and Luhan held nothing back from him, either. They confided in each other because they only truly trusted each other. As much as Kris loved Tao, it was Luhan who held his confidence.

“I know you’re lying,” Kris said. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re okay. It’s me, Luhan. No need for posturing.”

Luhan pressed down at his bangs a little nervously. “I feel fine. Really. I’m not lying to you. I’m mostly recovered from my latest vision, and I don’t think Mama will send me another one right away. I certainly won’t be trying to provoke one.”

Kris frowned. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

They were alone in what had been Kris’ private rooms, but were their shared rooms now, and it was the first time they’d been by themselves since before Luhan’s accident. Kris wasn’t exactly a tactile person, not like Tao could be in private, but Kris had hugged Luhan tightly twice since shutting the door behind them and was itching to do it again at the moment. It was still a little hard to believe that he had Luhan back, unharmed and relatively okay.

“I’m not sure what you mean, then,” Luhan said trailing off.

Sadly, Kris said, “We’ve known each other our whole lives, Luhan. We’ve practically been best friends since birth. I know you well. Or at least well enough to know when you’re not yourself. You’re … heartbroken.”

It was a hard pill to swallow, even with the recent end to the war and Luhan’s insistence that something much more troubling was poised to threaten their lives, that Luhan had gone and fallen in love with someone like Kai. It wasn’t that Kris had ever expected Luhan to refrain from being in love, or to give his heart to Kris himself. There’d never been anything but brotherly affection between them. But Kai felt like a betrayal. The K operative wasn’t good enough for Luhan. 

“Oh,” Luhan said, not denying it. “I suppose I am.”

Kris cupped a hand around the back of Luhan’s neck. “You really love that guy? Kai? You’re in love with him?”

Luhan gave an awkward smile. “I know you can’t see it. You don’t understand Kai the way I do. But I promise you, he’s an amazing person. He’s kind and strong and his personality is very attractive. So is his loyalty. I wouldn’t just give my heart to anyone, Kris. So yes, I do love him very much.”

“But you still married me.”

Kris had always intended to marry Luhan. They’d been betrothed for a very long time, the perfect match for each other in their parent’s eyes. And in the eyes of the people, which was the bigger matter at hand. Being the future ruler of M had always weighed heavily on Kris’ mind, along with the duties and expectations that accompanied it. 

Not that marrying Luhan was a chore at all. His cousin could be a little dense at times, and too kind for his own good, but he was bright and warm in every way that Kris valued. Not to mention he was politically savvy, very powerful and a true friend. Marrying Luhan was an honor, if anything.

“You know why,” Luahn said, leaning into Kris’ hand. “And no matter my feelings for Kai, I still love you very much. You were my first friend and I would have no one else watching my back as we navigate the future of this nation. I was glad to marry you, Kris. Truthfully. No everyone in an arranged marriage has the luck of marrying someone they already love.”

The words spoken were truly comforting, but all Kris could think of was the way that Luhan had fallen after touching Mama’s life tree’s exposed roots. Kai had thrown himself forward without a care to catch him, and then cradled him so deftly. He’d been the one breathing life into Luhan until Lay was there to save him, and there’d been nothing but fierce love in Kai’s eyes as he held onto Luhan as if his grip could make a difference. 

The love that Kris had seen radiating from Kai wasn’t something dismissible, and that love was reciprocated if the looks that Luhan sent longingly to Kai meant anything. 

Kris knew they meant everything. 

Kris let his thumb stroke the soft skin at Luhan’s neck for a second, then his hand fell away and he said, “You married me for the stability of M. You married me to protect my power and to help end the war. You didn’t marry me because you’re desperately in love with me. So I suppose what I’m saying here is that if an incident of infidelity were to happen in this marriage, I would never acknowledge it.”

Luhan looked offended, maybe even hurt. “I would never betray our marriage vows!”

“But you’re in love with Kai,” Kris pushed, “and I’m in love with Tao. We could come to an agreement of some sort. It wouldn’t be infidelity if we had an agreement.”

“No,” Luhan said, balling his fists, “it would still be infidelity, and I couldn’t do that to you. I hope you wouldn’t do it to me. I love Kai. I’m in love with Kai, but I was within my right mind when I married you. I talked to Kai before our marriage. He understood why I was choosing to marry you. He also knew it meant we could never be together again. We accept that. You should, too. From this point on I won’t be with anyone who isn’t my husband.”

Kris reasoned, “Not sex, then. You wouldn’t have to commit adultery. But Kai could stay here and you could spend time together. Or I could let you go away on … we could call it a religious retreat, and you could meet him that way.”

“Kris,” Luhan said kindly, reaching out to embrace him. “Why are you trying to push Kai and I together so much?”

“Why?” Kris balked. “Because life isn’t fair and you don’t get to be wit the person you love, and I love you enough to want that for you. Because you’re telling me that Mama is fighting a losing battle against a shadow that is still unknown to you. Because we could die at any time, and if that’s the case, we should die happy. Pick your reason.”

Luhan’s dry lips pressed to Kris’ cheek. “Stop trying. I’m proud to be married to you. I’m going to honor and respect you as my husband. And no matter what the future holds, accepting our situation is the least we can do.”

With a short laugh, Kris questioned, “When did you get so wise?”

“It’s been a learning curve,” Luhan joked back. “Now, Commander Suho and Bakehyun will be arriving soon, and we need to get started as soon as possible. They’ll want to rest, of course, but afterwards it should be right to business.”

Kris remarked, “I honestly still can’t believe that I’m about to have Suho in the palace. I didn’t think this day would ever come. M and K getting along. Who would have thought.”

“I don’t know if you’ll be getting along,” Luhan teased, “but I hope you’ll try.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

Just before Kris could pull open the bedroom door, Luhan put a heavy hand on it and said quietly, “You act like I’m the only one this marriage isn’t fair to. I’m not the only one being hurt in the heart by it.”

“Luhan?”

“You said it yourself,” Luhan said, turning wide eyes on Kris. “You love Tao in the way that I love Kai. We are both in love with other people. Not just me. For that I’m sorry. I’m just as sorry for you as you are for me.”

With forced cheeriness, Kris said, “You said the best we can do is accept our situations, and I’ve accepted it. Maybe I’ve always accepted my situation with Tao. I never really had a shot with him in the first place, right? Even if you and I had never been engaged, I wouldn’t have been allowed to marry Tao. And I love him too much to keep him on the side. You might have had a shot with Kai, if things had been different, but I never had one with Tao.”

Luhan was quiet for a moment, soaking in Kris’ words.

“Let’s go.” Kris pulled open the door, his eyes immediately meeting those of Tao’s who stood in the hallway with Chen and Xiumin. “Didn’t you mention something about having a world to save?”

Luhan mumbled a reply Kris didn’t catch, then was dashing down the hall, Xiumin hustling after him.

“Are you okay?” Tao asked, coming to his side. “What’s with the prince consort?”

Kris waved him off, watching Luhan disappear rapidly down the hallway. “Fine. Luhan is just …” Kris paused, feeling a surge of happiness from merely being near the other man, then told Tao, “Don’t ever let Luhan hear you call him that outside of a public function. You know he hates titles.”

With great severity, Tao said, “Things are different now. He’s married to you, and you’re about to be king.”

Kris hated the way Tao looked, some unsettling mixture of acceptance and sadness. “Tao. I …” He said it as quietly as he could manage, with Chen standing not too far away. Chen was one of Kris’ most trusted, and if he heard anything that was private matter, Kris knew he’d keep it to himself. But still, there was something important about keeping his relationship with Tao between the two of them, or at least between as few people as possible. “I’m sorry for marrying Luhan.”

“For doing your duty?” Tao questioned. “I have always known you were going to marry him. I wasn’t ever delusional on that matter. I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me. My heart is stronger than you think.”

Minutes ago Kris had proposed that Luhan and Kai could carry on some sort of intimate or sexual relationship, if only to make Luhan happy. He’d been unable to understand why Luhan had refused him so quickly then, but he was starting to now. His days of enjoying the comfort of Tao were gone, and he couldn’t risk the throne or his crown to repeat them. Neither could he do that to the sanctity of his marriage vows.

Kris rubbed a hand over his face. He was so tried now. All the time. “I’m going to see my father one last time. I don’t need a guard for that. Take a minute for yourself, Tao. It might be the last private minute you actually get.”

“If it’s all the same,” Tao said, “I’ll stick by your side as long as I’m wanted.”

Kris grinned. “Fair enough. And you should know, you’re always wanted.”

Many people in M, at least until very recently, hadn’t known the king was sick. And even fewer knew how close to death he really was. A good portion of the population remembered the king like Kris did, strong and authoritative, capable and courageous, able to withstand great pressure, and make the kind of executive decisions without so much as a moral struggle. He’d been a true king, and an effective one. Emulating him would be Kris’ greatest goal.

But better than the way he remembered is father, Kris remembered his mother. She’d been quite young when she’d died, with Kris younger than Luhan had been when he’d lost his parents. But he remembered her as the picture of maternal grace and beauty. She’d been tall, with auburn hair, and Kris still remembered her songlike voice as clear as if he’d just heard it. She’d been the kind of queen that he hoped Luhan would emulate through behavior. His mother had been his father’s greatest asset. Kris needed Luhan to be his.

“What’s he saying?” Tao asked, leaning over as the king mumbled something low and indistinguishable. 

“He’s asking for his wife. My mother.”

“Oh.”

Kris reached for his father’s hand, holding it delicately. “My father always said the most defining moment of his rule would be bringing K under M’s control and uniting Exo. I think he’d be very disappointed in me for giving up his dream.”

“He wouldn’t have expected you to fight a war your heart wasn’t in it,” Tao argued. “You and your father are not the same, and you don’t have the same wants or desires. Plus, if Luhan’s right, you’re going to get another war. One with a far greater impact.”

“I do believe Luhan,” Kris said right away, looking to Tao. “Because I feel it in my gut.”

Tao said, “I do too, honestly. And I’m really worried.”

Kris sighed, “There’s nothing to do until Commander Suho and his companion get here. Nothing to do but wait.”

Commander Suho didn’t actually arrive until the late evening the following day, far past the time when they could meet properly to discuss anything. Kris hadn’t expected him any sooner. K’s capital was far inland, and even with their fastest transport, it was a long ride into M. Almost everyone had already gone to bed when the Commander came into sight, but Kris had been prepared to wait the whole night.

“Commander Suho,” Kris greeted when the man emerged from his vehicle. 

Suho nodded his head. “Prince Kris.”

There was a prolonged awkwardness between them, one that Kris wasn’t sure how to proceed with. The honest truth was that he had expected to eventually encounter Suho, but not over a peace treaty. He’d expected a battle, in which one of them wouldn’t survive. 

“Baekhyun!”

Out of no where Luhan streaked past, moving to stand in front of Suho’s companion, making Kris tense up. There was likely little threat from the short man, but as far as Luhan went, Kris had always hesitated to take risks. He watched Luhan chat rapidly and excitedly with Baekhun.

When his gaze slid over to Suho, he was surprised to see the small, amused smile on his face as he watched the two. Kris returned it when their eyes met, and Kris felt a surge of hope.

“I brought it,” Baekhyun said, putting Luhan’s fears to rest. “I was nervous the whole way, but I brought it. Let me get it for you. I know you’ve waited so long to see it in person.”

Kris made a quick gesture to Xiumin, sending him after Luhan who was rounding the vehicle after Baekhyun and was soon out of view. 

“The two of them,” Kris remarked, earning a bigger smile from Suho.

The man returned, “They’re friends, after all. Even if it’s hard for us to understand it, they have been friends for a very long time.”

Kris could just hear Luhan breathe out, “Oh, Baekhyun. It’s amazing.”

Kris gestured to the palace behind him, telling Suho, “It’s too late for us to do anything at the moment, and any peace treaty has to recognized by the king’s council. I guarantee you there’ll be no getting them out of bed at this hour. First thing tomorrow we can tie that up.”

“I can’t pretend to be comfortable staying here, in M, without a peace treaty ensuring the safety of both my people and myself.”

Luhan and Baekhyun were back in eyesight, with Xiumin hovering nearby, all three of them focused on a large, delicate looking book.

“You’re under my protection here,” Kris assured him. “You have diplomatic immunity, the same thing that has been given to your operatives and citizens. I’m playing host to a mixture of them at the moment, and they are all alive and well.” Kris added sharply, “Even the ones that attacked me as I was sleeping.”

The look on Suho’s face was trying. “I didn’t authorize that. Kai and D.O. were acting of their own accord. And I doubt they were trying to attack you.”

“Luhan,” Kris called out, beckoning his husband back over so they could go. He told Suho, motioning to Chen who’d been silent behind him up until that point. “This is Chen. He’s going to be in charge of your security detail until the peace treaty is signed.”

Chen said, arms crossed, “I’ll stand guard outside your suite tonight, in case your arrival here at the palace is compromised in any way.”

Firmly, and without doubt, Kris said, “We will sign the peace treaty tomorrow morning. And afterwards we can take on the other pressing matter that you’ve come here for. The one that Luhan and Baekhyun seem to think is even more important than the war we are about to end.”

Smiling kindly at Suho, Luhan said as he made his way to Kris’ side, “I appreciate you coming, Commander Suho. And bringing Baekhyun with you. I promise you, the threat to Mama, and to our very existence is real. I’ve … seen what will happen, if we do nothing. It’s an outcome I can’t let happen.”

“Luhan, wait.” Baekhyun moved after him, holding the book out. “I think you should take this tonight.”

Kris watched Luhan drawing back uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

That book. Kris wondered what was in it. What made the contents so revered that it could make Luhan look and act the way he was?

“I’m sure,” Baekhyun said, handing it over. “I had some time to look it over on the way here. To familiarize myself with the content again. So you hold onto it tonight.”

Chen cut in, “We should get inside, your highness. It’s late.” 

“Of course.” Kris motioned for Suho to go ahead of him, waiting himself for Luhan.

“I handled your room assignments personally,” Luhan was telling Baekhyun as Kris waited a bit impatiently. “I put you in with Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun looked a little weepy as he rushed off after Suho and Chen.

“What was that about?” Kris asked, feeling Luhan’s arm slip through his own, the crooks of their elbows meeting comfortably. “Baekhyun and Chanyeol?”

“Not everyone is as unlucky as you and I, when it comes to love,” Luhan said, guiding them up the steps of the palace. “Some people get to be with the ones they love. Plus, Chanyeol played a large part in me finding my way back to you and M as quickly as I did. I want to repay them in some way.”

“You want to repay two citizens of K?” he said with some distain.

Luhan pinched him sharply and Kris glared at him as Luhan said, “No more animosity between K and M. I’m not naïve enough to think everything will go away over night, but it has to start somewhere. Starting with us is a good enough place as any.”

He supposed Luhan had a point. And he was expected to set an example for the people to follow.

“Alright,” Kris said. “I’ll make an effort. But I’m tired now, and we should go to bed.”

Less than an hour later Luhan was sleeping quietly next to him, curled up on his side, pulling the majority of blankets towards his form. Kris was content enough to sit up in bed, legs crossed, the bedroom illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from the nearby window.

He couldn’t get to sleep, no matter how tired he was. There was too much to think about, from the peace treaty, to Luhan’s visions about Mama, to Tao who was likely pacing outside his bedroom door at that very moment. And his father, who’d likely be dead by the time he woke in the morning.

Next to him Luhan mumbled something in his sleep, rolling over.

Kai. He’d said Kai’s name. Luhan was dreaming about Kai. 

Absently, Kris wondered how Baekhyun felt about sharing his dreams with Luhan when they were about Kai. It must have been at least a little awkward. 

Kris leaned back, tucking an arm under his head. As much as he wanted to sleep, he had a very good feeling that it wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. But eventually, after a few hours of tossing and turning, Kris eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

A horrifying, utterly gut wrenching scream woke him out of the light sleep he’d managed. It rattled is teeth and startled him so much that he lost control of his ability, accidentally launching himself off his bed and up towards the tall, vaulted ceiling of his bedroom. A second later he came back to himself and he was falling rapidly, his fall cushioned only by his massive bed.

“Luhan!” He was up on his hands and knees just after that, scrambling towards the screaming man. “Wake up!” It was a night terror. He hoped. And not a vision.

Kris was desperately trying to shake a squirming, twisting Luhan awake when Kai blinked into existence. He was dressed in night clothes, his hair rumpled, but he didn’t look like he’d just woken. It was possible he’d been just as restless as Kris.

“What’s wrong?” Kai asked, dashing to Luhan’s side. “I head his screaming all the way from my room!”

The door to Kris’ bedroom burst open and Tao was leading the charge.

And it was then that Kris could hear a different set of screams.

“Baekhyun,” Kai said without thought to Kris. “That’s Baekhyun. He must be stuck in whatever dream Luhan is.”

“Luhan!” Kris shook him again. But his cousin wasn’t reacting to him, and Kris was just desperate enough to demand at Kai, “Help me wake him if you can.”

With both Kris and Tao watching, Kai knelt onto the bed and enfolded his body over Luhan’s. He stroked his fingers through Luhan’s hair and whispered to him, “Hey. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Kai. You need to wake up, now.” Kris couldn’t be sure that Luhan could hear him over the screaming. But then miraculously, as Kai continued to pet his hair and sooth him with soft words, Luhan began to calm. And so did Baekhyun.

“What just happened?” Tao asked shakily.

“There you are,” Kai said gently, his thumb rubbing along Luhan’s jaw. “You coming back to us?”

Luhan gave the smallest of nods, eyes still mostly unfocused. He gripped the sleeve of Kai’s night shirt as he fought to calm his breathing. 

“I’m here, Luhan. I’ve got you and I promise, you’re going to be just fine. Wake up a little more for me, okay?”

Luhan’s eyes opened more fully and it took every part of Kris’ self control not to crowd in on Kai.

“Vision?” Kai asked. 

“No,” Luhan returned, his voice scratchy and hoarse from the sudden screaming. “Just … a bad dream.”

Finally Kris said, “That wasn’t just any dream, Luhan.” Those screams had reminded him of what had happened when Luhan had touched the life tree and fallen into a violent vision. 

Kai nodded. “I agree with the prince, Luhan. You weren’t just dreaming. That was … horrible. It took a while to get you out of it,” Kai said, his weight still pressing down on Luhan comfortingly. 

With only as much as a shout, Sehun came sprinting around the corner, out of breath and looking just a little scared. “Luhan! Are you okay? Baekhyun was screaming, and Chanyeol couldn’t get him to wake up, and then we heard you screaming! Baekhyun is asking for you, but he can’t get out of bed. He can’t even stand.”

Once, Kris remembered a time when the palace had always been silent and uninteresting. Even when they’d been children, nothing exciting had ever happened. Kris wondered if that was better, or the colorful cast of characters they were currently entertaining. 

“Kai,” Luhan soothed out, pulling an arm around the teleporter’s neck out of a necessity of contact more than anything else. “I’m okay.”

But Kris didn’t think he was okay. Whatever he’d been dreaming about, it had shaken him. Had it been a dream of the future, or just a nightmare? No one but Luhan could ever be sure if he was dreaming of fact or fiction. Sometimes not even Luhan.

With a final hug to Kai, one that conveyed everything in the world to Kris, Luhan sat up slowly and without aid from anyone. He took several deep breaths and steadied himself.

“Your highness?” Tao asked.

“We’re okay,” Kris assured Tao. “Thank you.”

Kai stood back and looked lost. “I’ll just … go back to my room. Sorry for barging in. I thought ….”

He’d though something bad was happening to Luhan, or that he was experiencing a vision too soon for it to not hurt him terribly. He’d reacted quicker than Kris could have imagined. 

It was so easy to see how Kai loved Luhan now. It was all Kris could see.

“Luhan?” Sehun called out, lingering by the doors to the bedroom, but not entering. He looked younger than he was in the moonlight. “Should I tell Baekhyun to just go back to bed? He wants to see you, but you don’t look good.”

Kris observed Luhan had fisted some of their sheets in a tight grip. He was probably fighting to hold onto his control.

“I’ll go see him now,” Luhan said, shaking his head slowly. “I was dreaming about my vision. The last one. That’s what Baekhyun saw. He must be very upset. I need to help him.”

Luhan barely looked like he was managing to sit up. There was no way he was going to make the walk all the way to the visitor suits.

“Kai,” Kris said, almost surprising even himself, “Luhan is in no shape to walk. You share the quarters next to where Baekhyun is staying. Please teleport Luhan there instead, and carry him the rest of the distance. I’m trusting him with you on this.” He’d removed the dampening bracelets on faith alone, trusting his gut that K was no longer an enemy, and that according to Luhan they were about to be united in a fight against something much worse.

“You want me to …” Kai said a bit dumbly.

The sound of feet running across the floor interrupted Kris from responding, turning to see Chen appear in the doorway. The man reported, “Commander Suho is demanding to know what’s happened. I think he suspects an attack on one of his people.”

By the time Kris turned back to Kai he already had Luhan up in his arms, ready for teleport.

With unease in his stomach, Kris said, “The last time you teleported my cousin, you lost him. Don’t make a second time of it.”

Luhan managed a small, encouraging smile to Kris for a half second, then he and Kai were gone, to the other side of the north wing of the palace.

“Chen,” Kris said, reaching for his nearby robe. He waved off the startled, but ready servants who’d appeared behind Chen to help him if necessary. “Go tell Commander Suho that I’m on my way. I’ll explain everything to him, but let him know that there’s been no attack. Just bad dreams.” 

Chen headed off at a quick jog as Kris finished tying the knot to his robe.

“You look shaken too,” Tao said, and Kris was aware that they were alone in the room now, Sehun having left shortly after Luhan. “And you didn’t even have the dream.”

“Just tired,” Kris admitted. 

Tao remarked, “It must have been hard to trust Luhan with him again. Especially knowing his intentions towards your husband.”

Kris headed to the door, but let his fingers graze across Tao’s forearm. “I don’t like him, that’s for sure. But he’d no more hurt Luhan that I would. Neither would Luhan ever consider infidelity. Tao.” Kris stopped, meeting his eyes. “Luhan hasn’t ever been the hard one for me to let go.” Then he was continuing on his way, to stop a second war from breaking out.

Commander Suho was actually fairly easy to settle down, and a quick check in on Baekhyun an hour later saw Luhan asleep in the bed of the man he shared his dreams with. Chanyeol and Kai were respectively sprawled out in other parts of the room and Kris went back to his own bed alone.

In the morning, almost at first light, Kris was up despite his lack of sleep. He bathed quickly, and dressed in some of his finest clothing. He met Suho in the designated conference room with his father’s council, the Minister of War and the traditional official witness. 

“Why does your father’s council look unhappy that we’re signing this peace treaty?” Suho asked Kris under his breath, seconds before they needed to raise their pens.

Kris eyed them all with open annoyance, then told Suho, not managing to control his tone, “Not everyone supports the idea of peace. But Luhan and I will ensure it.” 

Luhan was also present, ready to place his own signature on the document, looking almost like he hadn’t been screaming his throat raw the night before. He was all smiles, almost scandalously taunting the king’s council with his wiliness to end the war. In these moments, Luhan openly flaunting the power they’d taken back from that council, Kris really loved his cousin. 

They had a traditional, celebratory drink after the peace treaty was signed, finalized and witnessed, and then, only then, did Kris tell both Luhan and Suho, “My father died early this morning.”

“I’m so sorry, Kris,” Luhan said, reeking of empathy. Suho nodded his regards.

“It’s a good thing,” Kris insisted, but he was still hurting terribly from the news that had been delivered secretly to him just before the morning meal. “My father was a great king, but he was relic of the past. He only knew how to fight and wage war. I want so much more for M. Now I have the control to do that.”

Begrudgingly, and Kris could tell it was so, Suho said, “I may have misjudged you.”

Kris dared to crack a smile. “I misjudged a lot, too. It’s something that seems to be going around.”

“Kris? Commander?”

Luhan had a terse look on his face, and Kris knew what was coming immediately.

“An hour,” Kris said. “We’ll meet back here in an hour. All twelve of us.” And this was it, he realized it. The start of the real fight. “Can you and Baekhyun be ready in an hour, Luhan?”

“I’ll go see Baekhyun now. We’ll be ready.” Luhan headed out right away.

“You know,” Suho said, jarring Kris a little, “if this threat that Mama keeps trying to tell Luhan and Baekhyun about turns out to be the real thing, then M and K will have to be together to fight. We’ll have to work together, and watch each other’s backs, and we will have to be allies. It might be difficult. At least at first.”

Kris scoffed, “If the other choice is total annihilation and death, I can put aside my prejudices. And I think you’re a far competent enough leader to do that same for your people.”

Suho shook his head. “But I’m not going to be the leader of my people for very much longer. The war is over. The position of Commander was instituted only for a time of war, until independence was won. K will want to start democratic elections very quickly, and I won’t be a candidate for her head of state. A few months from now, I won’t be calling the shots, and you’ll be dealing with a wild card.”

“A few months,” Kris mulled over. “The way I’ve heard Luhan talk, we might not have even that long. Mama’s gotten … uncharacteristically aggressive with him, and he thinks that means she’s very desperate. I’d be surprised if we had a few months.”

“And we’re supposed to just fight these shadow creatures?” Suho asked. “Can we actually hurt them? Baekhyun said their only true weakness, that we know of at least, is light. So Baekhyun could fight them, theoretically, but what about the rest of us?”

Kris wasn’t sure about that. He was less sure than he wanted to admit. So he told Suho, “That’s something I guess we’ll be talking about in about an hour. Fair enough?”

It really wasn’t a matter of fairness, in all actuality. 

When they were all together a little over an hour later, Kris personally locking the doors behind them, Luhan and Baekhyun were front and center, already trying to explain their wild theory involving the ancient looking book.

The other ten of them, Kris included, were seated in a semicircle, and it gave him a good idea from the faces he could see that Luhan and Baekhyun weren’t exactly winning anyone over.

“I don’t doubt that that book is as old as you claim,” Lay said just as kindly as patiently, “or that you were guided in some way to find it. The fact that you two share dreams is proof enough that something like that is possible, but you’re trying to convince us that you suspect we twelve are what? Some kind of legendary warriors for Mama?”

With Baekhyun holding the book open, Luhan put his hands on his hips. “Not warriors. Guardians. There is a distinction.”

Sehun leaned back in his chair. “You can’t even read the book. It’s written in a language none of us understand, and we’ve got representatives of both M and K in this room, and all the different dialects in Exo. Why would you think we’re these guardians? Why us twelve? Why not the next twelve people you see?”

Luhan gave Sehun a look that practically shriveled him in his seat, then said, “The naysayers being ignored at this point, I promise you all, Mama is sentient. She’s very much aware of what’s going on around us, she’s constantly trying to guide us, and she is not just the life provider.” Luhan paused, eyes sweeping over the room. “And as to why I’m convinced that we’re these twelve warriors represented in this book by these twelve sigils, is because we’re all intimately connected in a way that is far beyond coincidence. That’s on top of Mama telling me how important each and every one of you is.”

Baekhyun interjected, pushing up his sleeve to his armpit, and balancing the book in one hand, he turned the inside of his bicep to the people in the room, “Luhan and I are confident that everyone who touches this book will be marked the same as we are. I’ve already confirmed Suho.”

Kris had seen his own mark on his back a short while earlier, partly to appease Luhan before they even started, and partly because Kris was genuinely curious. He’d also seen the ones that Chen and Xiumin had.

“Guardians are always pulled together when the time comes,” Luhan said definitively. “And we have been pulled. I dare any of you to deny that.”

What followed was an insistence that the book be passed around for everyone to touch. And one by one, some having to hunt for their marks more than others, each one of them had a defining symbol on their skin.

Luhan rattled off, “I mean it when I say we’re all inner-connected to either each other or Mama. Baekhyun and I have been sharing dreams for years. Lay, you’ve been touched by Mama very recently.”

Lay shook his head. “But that was an accident. I touched the life tree and instinctively tried to heal. It really was just instinct.”

Luhan frowned. “But you felt it. You felt her soul in that second, didn’t you?”

When Lay didn’t respond, Chanyeol surprised most everyone in the room by saying, “We’ll, I haven’t had any crazy visions, but I have had some crazy dreams.” He ducked his head a little. “Dreams about a lot of the people in this room, and until now I hadn’t met most of you.”

“Really?” Baekhyun asked, turning to him with a question on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chanyeol grinned. “I didn’t want to worry you. You like to worry about stuff, you’re good at it, but it isn’t great for your health.”

Tao said hesitantly, “Earlier, Luhan, when Xiumin and I were fighting Sehun and Chanyeol, I kept feeling … I don’t know, this compulsion not to kill them. I was trying, but something kept pulling me back at the last second.”

“Oh, thanks,” Chanyeol snorted out. 

“Something?” Kris asked.

“Mama?” Tao offered. 

Kris watched Luhan rub the inside of his wrist, where his mark had been. Then his cousin said, “There’s no doubt in my mind Sehun and Chanyeol were guided by Mama to find me and return me safely to my home.”

Baekhyun said a little bluntly, “Kai and Luhan’s previous relationship wouldn’t have happened at all if Luhan hadn’t been sent visions of Kai by Mama. She pushed them together, which, when Luhan disappeared, really acted like the catalyst in bringing K and M together. D.O., you wouldn’t have cared half as much about this entire situation if Kai hadn’t been involved, and neither would you have, Suho. Mama’s been steadily drawing us all together for some time, linking us, making us care for each other and in a way, moving her pieces into play.”

Carefully, Kris could see Luhan glance at Kai, who purposely missed the look, before sending his own back the second Luhan wasn’t paying attention. It was almost painful to watch them skirt around each other. At the very least, especially after seeing the way Kai had been there for Luhan after his night terror, Kris was beginning to regret being the force in between them.

Xiumin reasoned, elbows braced on the table in front of him, “Let’s assume, for argument’s sake, that we are these twelve mythical guardians. We’re supposed to what, fight for Mama? Against this darkness that you’ve only spoken about in vague terms? Tell us more about that, if you want us to agree to anything.”

Luhan looked nervously to Baekhyun and Kris sighed. “You can’t tell us much, can you?” he asked.

Chen asked instead, “What can you tell us? Is this darkness corporeal?”

At that, at least, Luhan seemed to light up. “Not yet! And that’s where we have the advantage. The darkness is still … lurking. It’s chipping away at Mama every day, but it can’t actually manifest itself yet. Until it can, we have time. It’s scouts are on the move, and I don’t doubt they’ll show themselves sooner, rather than later. But the real threat, the real darkness, still can’t reach us.”

“And when will that be?” Suho asked. “Got at least a general idea?”

Baekhyun flipped as quickly through the book as he dared, settling on a page towards the back that was more picture than writing. “Here. Luhan and I are confident about the date, especially with the dreams we’ve been having recently. It can’t happen until our twin moons pass directly into Exo’s shadow. And in addition, it won’t be until our planet and the six others in our solar system are in perfect alignment.”

“That doesn’t happen very frequently, right?” Kai asked, squinting at the picture. 

Bakehyun shook his head. “Rarely. Luhan and I have already worked out the time frame and we have until just before the start of the next new month. That’s three weeks away. That’s three weeks for us to figure out what we’re going to do, and how we’re going to handle this. It’s not a lot of time, but it’s something.”

“I’ve dreamed about this alignment before,” Luhan said, shuddering a bit. “Mama is pushing it at me frequently now. She’s getting short on time and very desperate.”

“So, then,” Chanyeol eased out, “What exactly are we supposed to do?”

“Fight,” Baekhyun said, but it was mumbled so awkwardly Kris wasn’t sure he quite believed him.

“The truth is,” Luhan said with a sigh, “is that Mama put all her energy into alerting us to the threat, not telling us what it is exactly. Baekhyun and I don’t know what to tell you, and we don’t have all the answers you want. We only know what Mama’s shown me, and I’ve shown Baekhyun. I guess … maybe I could try and trigger another vision.”

“No!” Kris shot to his feet and it was a half second later before he realized that he was one of many protesting.

“Absolutely not,” Kai said viciously. “You almost died the last time you had a vision. It was insane. I won’t allow it.”

Luhan did not look pleased. “You won’t allow it?”

“I mean,” Kai breathed out, tension bleeding from his body, “it’s not an option. Even with Lay ready to heal you at a moment’s notice. You body can only take so much strain, and you’re at the end of your rope. Don’t try and tell us you aren’t.”

“Luhan,” Kris said, trying to smile at him but feeling as if he was failing, “we’ll entertain that idea only if there’s nothing else we can do. But if anything we should be trying to block any more of Mama’s visions from you. At least for the time being.”

“I will not block Mama!” Luhan’s outburst seemed to be the end of that subject. Kris had fought with him about enough in the past to know when Luhan’s stubbornness was going to win out. For now Kris would let him win, but he wasn’t going to sacrifice Luhan for a bit more of information that was sure to be confusing and convoluted.

Baekhyun cleared his throat, trying to quiet everyone down. “I think there are several things we can do right now. Several things that need to be done. Firstly, we need to go back to where I found this book. This book was preserved with care and intent. I only took the book because it was all I was looking for. There might be more clues there.”

“Also,” Luhan continued, “Some of us need to go to the Forbidden City.”

“No way,” Tao said, cutting his hand through the air. “It’s called the Forbidden City for a reason. Our ancestors almost destroyed our planet there. We can’t go there.”

Luhan told him, “When that was happening, there’s a good chance that Mama had twelve guardians who were responsible for protecting her and this planet. Whether they did their jobs well enough or not isn’t our concern. But we need to learn from what they did wrong there. We always assumed they were fighting each other in the Forbidden City. What if they were fighting this darkness?”

Sehun suggested, “What about the Dead Lands? If I was a shadow creature and I was thinking of popping up, that’s where I’d choose. It’s remote, we don’t monitor it, and it practically reeks of evil. You know what I mean. We should check that out.”

In the next hour they came up with several more points of focus, a plan of action, and they were all honestly feeling a little more confident.

“If we do this,” Baekhyun said, hugging the book to his chest, “if we try to save Mama and Exo, we have to do it as a united force of twelve. We can’t be six M and six K. We have to be Mama’s twelve guardians. We have to work together to figure out what this darkness is before our time runs out. And then we have to figure out how to defeat it.”

“I think we all understand that,” Kris said, directing his words to Suho. “We’ll set the example and everyone will just have to get in line.”

Luhan gave a relieved look to them all. “I know this is difficult to hear, that we don’t really know much about this threat to Exo and Mama, but we will discover more. Baekhyun and I will do everything in our power to communicate with Mama.”

Baekhyun said with a note of finality, “If we do nothing, Exo and Mama will die. But if we act now, if we go looking for the answers that are out there, to where this darkness came from, and how to beat it, then we have a chance at a future. And even a chance is worth fighting for.”

They were breaking for a rest before lunch was served just after that, and Kris slung a comforting arm around Luhan, inquiring, “Why do you look so glum? I think you’ve pretty much convinced everyone to take you and Baekhyun seriously. No matter how farfetched it sounds, we’re buying this guardian business.”

“I can’t help but be worried,” Luhan said, guiding Kris to the old book that Baekhyun had left behind in favor of a short nap. 

“Why?” Kris asked.

Luhan flipped through the pages until he was almost at the end. Then he said to Kris, “Mama had generations of guardians before us. They always protected her and continued the cycle. And then suddenly they were gone. We didn’t have any for long enough that people forgot about having guardians at all, and Mama became more like a myth to us. Or a relic of the past that just happened to be responsible or our talents. Kris, I’m worried about what wiped those guardians out and forced Mama to fight her own losing battle with the darkness.”

“Whatever happened,” Kris promised, “we’re going to be okay. We’ll fight and win. That’s what we do.”

“I think it was this,” Luhan said, finger pressed against an illustration in the book. “I think this killed the guardians.”

Kris tried not to let it show on his face, but the dark, almost humanoid form on the page was so sinister looking it made Kris’ skin scrawl. “What is that?”

Luhan let his head rest against Kris’ shoulder. “The Great Destroyer. That’s what Mama keeps screaming at me to hide Baekhyun from, and protect myself from. This thing, whatever it is, I don’t know if we’re even going to be match for it. All these shadows lurking around Mama, trying to hurt her constantly, they can’t manifest yet. But I don’t know about this thing.”

Kris looked again at the picture. If Luhan had seen anything like this in his vision from Mama, it was starting to make more sense why he’d woken screaming his throat raw in fear. Kris was scared just looking at the picture. He couldn’t imagine it actually existing. Even less could he imagine them fighting that thing and winning.


	13. Chanyeol

Weighed down by two physics text books, his Korean-English dictionary, and his recently acquired anatomy reference book, Chanyeol struggled his way down the streets of busy Seoul, determined to reach his destination without asking for any help.

“I’ll carry one for you,” Kungsoo offered, pulling ahead as the café came into view. “Oops, never mind, I see Yixing!”

“Bastard,” Chanyeol hissed at him, missing a step and dropping his dictionary. He huffed for a second, feeling sorry for himself, then expertly bent down, retrieved the book and continued on his way. 

It was his own fault, really, piling on the extra courses in a desperate attempt to graduate a semester early with Baekhyun. Of course his first mistake had obviously been trying to compete with Baekhyun’s brain. Many a fool had lost that battle in the past, and Chanyeol had born witness to the tears, the fits and the accusations. Baekhyun just seemed to excel, at least where school was concerned.

Graduating a semester behind Baekhyun wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world if Baekhyun hadn’t already been accepted into a graduate program. In New York. America.

There was absolutely no way Chanyeol was letting his drop dead gorgeous boyfriend go off to America without him. Nor would Chanyeol entertain the idea of Baekhyun being roommates with any sexy Americans who’d no doubt find Baekhyun’s accent just as attractive as his face. No. Chanyeol had to graduate with him, go to America with him, and not let Baekhyun out of his sight.

Not for a second until he put on a ring on it. And there were babies. Lots of babies.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Chanyeol slammed his books down on the table his friends were gathered around and sunk into the only free chair.

Kungsoo, the afore mentioned bastard, was already sipping on an iced drink, almost painfully flirting with Yixing. Chanyeol was desperately awaiting the day Joonmyun managed to look up from his laptop for half a second to realize what was happening. 

“I’m here. Finally.” Chanyeol sent an extra glare at Kungsoo. “Despite the obstacles placed in my path, I have emerged victorious. My journey was perilous and taxing, but like I said, victory.”

Jongdae cocked an eyebrow. “The university is three blocks away. Also, you make the same walk with the same books every day. You’re just as dramatic every day, too.”

Surprisingly Baekhyun laughed, grazing Chanyeol’s cheek with his lips, defending, “Leave him alone, Jongdae. Chanyeol’s putting in the most effort I’ve ever seen from him before, and his school work had never been better.”

Chanyeol tried not to beam too brightly, lest he blind his other, inconsiderate and unappreciative friends. Instead he settled for holding Baekhyun’s hand under the table.

“Chanyeol!” Minseok shouted from nearly across the packed café, having to jump and wave almost frantically just to be seen. He was soon weaving his way around people, drying his hands on the half apron he wore. 

Minseok reeked of coffee like he always did, and if Chanyeol didn’t know personally that Minseok was going to school for hospitality training, he’d have guessed that the shorter, older man was majoring in caffeine. 

“Minseok,” Chanyeol called back, leaning over for a fist bump when his friend was close enough. “Take your break now? Grab a chair and sit with us?”

Minseok rolled is eyes playfully. “Look around you, Chanyeol. No can do. I just came over to get your order. You’re the last to arrive.”

A little puzzled, Chanyeol looked around him, eyes sliding from face to face. How was he the last?

“Chanyeol?” Jongin questioned, openly sharing a worried look with Sehun who was directly next to him. “You okay? You’re kind of spacing out.”

Chanyeol questioned, “Where’s Yifan? And Zitao?”

Gently, but with a point to the gesture, Baekhyun knocked his knuckles across Chanyeol’s forehead. “Yifan went home to visit his family, remember? It’s his parent’s anniversary next week and they only wanted one thing from him for the occasion.”

With a laugh, Sehun cut in, “They wanted to meet Yifan’s boyfriend!”

“Oh,” Chanyeol drawled out. “That’s right.” If anything, it was a very good thing Yifan was finally introducing Zitao to his parents. They’d been dating for several years and were moving in together before the end of the year. “I guess I am the last.”

Someone called Minseok’s name and he waved off Chanyeol, stating, “You know what, I’ll just bring you something good. I know what you like.” Then like a rocket he was shooting back towards the other baristas, apologizing loudly. 

“I don’t want coffee,” Chanyeol said with a bit of a sulk.

It wasn’t that he particularly hated coffee, but he had a bit of a sweet tooth and nothing Minseok ever brought him was sweet enough. Minseok liked his coffee almost too bitter, and seemed to be determined to bring the rest of them around to his point of view.

“Oh, hush,” Baekhyun said, eyes drifting back to his own open text book.

A nudge brought Chanyeol out of his momentary pity party.

“Chan,” Yixing requested, pushing his coffee at Chanyeol. “My latte’s gone cold. Can you? Please?”

A quick look around the table said no one else seemed to have a problem with the proposed action. It wasn’t as if they needed each other’s permission, but they were all fully aware that they were the only ones protecting each other. They had to watch out for each other, be vigilant, and not fight. As much as possible, anyway.

“Go ahead,” Joonmyun said with a firm nod. “The coast is clear. I checked.”

Chanyeol returned the nod without hesitation. If their odd group had a leader of any sort it was Joonmyun. He, more than anyone else, kept them all on the straight and narrow.

Chanyeol wrapped his fingers around Yixing’s cup and felt the fire within him burning like a volcano. He harnessed it through his fingers and soon the latte was steaming as if it had been freshly made. 

“Here,” Chanyeol said, handing it over. He tried not to be too secretly pleased with himself. But even a year earlier he might have run the risk of setting the paper cup on fire, likely scalding them all with hot coffee. Learning to control his ability had been a work in progress up until very recently. He was sort of a late bloomer, honestly. 

Fifteen minutes later Minseok was tearing through the café, a tall, iced glass in his hands. He plopped it down in front of Chanyeol and ordered, “Drink!” then he was gone again.

Flatly, Chanyeol said, “It really scares me how quickly he can move when he wants to. Guys, are we completely sure he isn’t our teleporter?”

“Unlikely,” Jongdae returned quickly.

Baekhyun tapped a pen against Chanyeol’s anatomy book and said, “You have your unwanted coffee, now get to work studying. We have a major test worth thirty percent of our grade in less than a week.”

“I know,” Chanyeol grumbled, opening the book and flipping to the right chapter. He raised the coffee to his lips and took a long drink.

Kungsoo burst out laughing at the expression on his face. “It can’t be that bad!”

“It’s horrible!” Chanyeol complained, all but throwing the drink down in front of him. “Minseok knows I don’t like bitter coffee. The only person other than him who could even start to stomach this drink is Lu Han.”

Odd expressions peered up at him until Baekhyun asked, “Who’s Lu Han? Do we have a class with him?”

Sehun tapped his chin. “I don’t know a Lu Han either, but I’m just a freshman at the university. Is he an upper-classmen?”

Chanyeol froze.

“What’s wrong?” Jongdae asked, leaning forward. “You look pale all the sudden.”

“I don’t …” Chanyeol said slowly. “I don’t know a Lu Han.” 

He really didn’t. He couldn’t recall a single person in his life named Lu Han, or anyone he’d ever met. So if that was the case, how had he pulled the name so effortlessly out of his memory?

Until in the blink of an eye he could remember all the important things about Lu Han.

Lu Han liked all coffee, even the bitter kind, and bike rides after the sun set, and the hot, sweet cakes that you could only get from the venders after all the regular restaurants closed. Lu Han had eyes that were too big for him sometimes, and was a little quick to speak before he thought, but was a kind soul and best friends with everyone. Chanyeol had known Lu Han forever.

Only, he hadn’t.

Who the hell was Lu Han?

“Chanyeol?” Bakehyun asked, resting a hand on his back. “Who’s Lu Han? What do you mean you don’t know a Lu Han? You said his name like you’re good friends.”

There was panic building in his chest as he searched through his memories. Lu Han’s face was fading fast, starting with his doe eyes. A second more and Chanyeol couldn’t remember where Lu Han lived. Five more seconds and he forgot the first class they’d ever had together. Fifteen second after that and Lu Han was gone completely.

“Chanyeol?” Sehun shook him gently. “Are you … Baekhyun, is he even breathing?”

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said, this time a little forcefully.

Where had his memories of Lu Han gone? Why couldn’t he remember Lu Han? Who was Lu Han?

Baekhyun thumped Chanyeol hard on the back. “Chanyeol!”

“What’s going on?” Minseok asked, approaching the table. “Is Chanyeol okay?”

Chanyeol drew in a deep breath, clutching at the edge of the table. “I’m okay,” he assured them all, his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. “I just spaced out. Sorry. I guess I’m just a little stressed out from school.”

Chanyeol never wanted to be responsible for the fear on Baekhyun’s face as he slowly nodded, leaning his forehead against Chanyeol’s arm. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Joonmyun asked with a hint of finality. “You started freaking out as soon as you mentioned this Lu Han guy.”

Chanyeol frowned, asking, “Who’s Lu Han?”

Jongdae made to say something, but the world melted around him.

“Chanyeol!”

Chanyeol shot up in bed, his throat hoarse, mouth parched and his pulse racing. He shuddered, fighting back a sob. Chanyeol had never felt so out of control of his own body, and everything felt tingly.

“You scared me so much,” Baekhyun said from beside him in the bed, his arms going around Chanyeol in a tight embrace.

“What happened?” Chanyeol asked, trying to even out his breathing. 

Baekhyun kissed the bare skin of Chanyeol’s exposed arm. “You were having a bad dream. What as it about?” A half second later and a little more hesitantly, he posed,   
“One of those weird dreams?”

Chanyeol could only nod. It had been surreal. And weirder than any other time he’d dreamed of people he’d only just begun to get to know. Something was terribly wrong and his dream was trying to tell him what it was. But how did forgetting Luhan factor in? No one had known him in his dream, and even Chanyeol had forgotten him by the end. How could that bode well for the future if the dream was even the least bit prophetic?

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Chanyeol finally eased out, turning to kiss Baekhyun properly. “I’m sure you and Luhan were busy flocking through fields of flowers, right?”

Baekhyun smacked him over the back of the head. “We don’t always dream about Mama, and when we don’t, our dreams are probably a lot like yours … excluding the weird ones. We dream about a lot of stuff that doesn’t make sense, normal stuff, and that sort of thing. No fields of flowers, I’m sad to say. And for your information, Luhan isn’t sleeping right now. I was blissfully alone in my dream.”

“Luhan isn’t sleeping?” Chanyeol reached for the nearby nightstand where the light switch could be triggered. The oddly shaped lamp lit up the clock and he was able to see that it was still ridiculously early in the morning. The sun wouldn’t even be up for a few more hours. “At this hour?”

“It’s not that abnormal,” Baekhyun said. “He’s worried about a lot of things, and that makes him a restless sleeper. Trust me. I’ve had more than enough time to learn his sleeping habits.”

Pursing his lips, Chanyeol inquired, “Is it creepy and awkward when Luhan is dreaming about Kai? Or when you’re dreaming about me?”

“What makes you think I dream about you?”

Chanyeol gave a loud scoff. “I’m pretty sure all your best dreams have involved me.”

Baekhyun reached around Chanyeol to shut off the light and then pull the taller man down onto the bed fully. “You can rest assured that over the years Luhan and I have developed ways to block each other out. If I happen to be dreaming about you in a … compromised way, I’m at least a bit lucid enough to block him out. When he blocks me, it’s just like going into a deeper sleep, one void of dreams. It’s pretty nice, actually.”

“I didn’t know you could block each other out,” Chanyeol said, surprised.

“I …” Bakehyun let his fingers scratch idly through Chanyeol’s hair. “When I dream about you, I want to protect that from anyone else. I want to protect you, even from Luhan, and regardless if it’s only a dream. I think instinctively Luhan wants the same thing. He’s always blocked me when Kai ended up seeping into his subconscious. He kept Kai fully hidden from me the entire time. I didn’t know any more than you did about them. And we certainly don’t pry into why the one of us is blocking the other. We have to have some respect for our privacy.”

“That’s pretty cool, actually.” Chanyeol turned onto his side, tucking an arm around Baehkyhun’s narrow waist. “You sure Luhan isn’t sleeping?”

Baekhyun hummed out an unrecognizable response, obviously already drifting back to sleep as his fingers slowed in Chanyeol’s hair. “Confident. Now, go back to sleep.”

Contrary to what a lot of people thought, Chanyeol could actually be very patient. And he was content to wait until Baekhyun’s breathing evened out and his hand fell completely limp against the sheets.

Then Chanyeol climbed out of bed carefully, pulled on his robe, slid his feet into his slippers and left Baekhyun sleeping in their suite alone. The last thing he needed to do was go back to sleep, or lay awake in bed for the next three hours. He had to think, and with any luck he’d run across Luhan. Even if he didn’t, some fresh air was something he was craving.

Careful to stay in the area that the prince had designated for them days earlier, Chanyeol took the second staircase on the left down to the first floor and out to the nearby small, enclosed garden blocked off by floor to ceiling glass windows. He pushed on one panel and was hit in the face by the frigid night air. 

“Jeeze,” he breathed out, pulling the collar on his robe tighter but not for a second considering going back to his room. Not when he could tip his head back and look up into the brilliant night sky, the stars shining like beacons of hope. The sight was breathtaking and he was happy enough to settle on a nearby bench and just be for a second.

“I can’t say I expected to see you out here,” a voice said, and when Chanyeol was able to tear his eyes away from the sky he was greeted with Lay’s pleasant face. “Baekhyun seems to have you on a tight leash.”

It wasn’t a dig, not really, because it was rooted in at least some truth. Baekhyun had always sort of told Chanyeol what to do. Even before they’d been a couple, when it had only been friendship holding them together. Chanyeol knew he had a tendency to leap without looking, and Baekhyun was always pulling the leash tightly to keep him from falling to his doom. Or something morbid like that. 

“Baekhyun’s sleeping. And I …” With a deep sigh, he confessed, “I had a really unsettling dream. I woke Baekhyun on accident and he mentioned that he was flying solo with his dreams tonight. I guess I was hoping to run into Luhan down here and get to talking to him about my dreams. He’s kind of the only other person I know who has really weird dreams that may or may not be prophetic.”

“You could talk to Baekhyun,” Lay offered, sitting next to Chanyeol. “He’s your partner, isn’t he? And he has weird dreams of his own.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol said, “but I kind of get the feeling that Baekhyun is just channeling Luhan’s dreams half the time. Plus, the dream I just had was about Luhan, at least in a way. So, what do you think my chances are that he’s roaming around here like an insomniac, and not just laying in bed memorizing his ceiling?”

Lay laughed, looking handsome as he did. “Slim to none, actually. Luhan’s new room with his highness isn’t too far from here, but your room happens to be right across the hall from Kai’s. Luhan wouldn’t risk coming this close to Kai.”

Chanyeol looked down at his slippers. “They really love each other, don’t they? It must suck being married to someone else.”

Laughing again, Lay said, “Luhan isn’t as much of a saint as you seem to think he is. I bet you anything he won’t come near Kai late at night, with no supervision, because he doesn’t trust himself.”

“I still think it sucks,” Chanyeol argued. “Especially with them having to be so close. I think I’d lose my mind if I had to be around Baekhyun, but I couldn’t be with him.”

Lay shook his head. “Luhan probably doesn’t have much to worry about. He can’t really devote the proper time and energy needed to become an adulterer, and Kai seems to be the sort able to put his country before his pants. He wouldn’t cause a diplomatic incident, I don’t think, even for Luhan.”

Chanyeol let his elbows rest on his knees and said, “Well, if Luhan isn’t going to come by, I guess I’ll just sit out here a little longer and think. You don’t have weird dreams, do you?”

“Not the kind that you have,” Lay said. “In fact, I dream very little. But I think that comes from me being exhausted a lot of the time. I spend a lot of my nights with Luhan, keeping him alive sometimes. I’m usually too exhausted to dream about anything.”

Quickly, Chanyeol asked, “Then you believe everything Luhan and Baekhyun said? I love Baekhyun, and I know him well enough to claim he wouldn’t joke around about something like this, but even you have to admit …”

“It sounds crazy,” Lay agreed. “But look as us now. M and K. Sitting together and not trying to kill each other.”

“I never liked the killing part,” Chanyeol said, and meant every word. “I just did what I thought I had to, to protect Baekhyun. I figured if I killed, he wouldn’t have to.”

Lay grinned. “I just meant that it seems almost incomprehensible that you and I would be sitting here, having a civil conversation. Our people are at peace now. In fifty years from now, the prejudices that we grew up with might be relics of the past. In a hundred, they might be forgotten completely.”

Chanyeol pointed out, “If we fight this darkness and win, you mean. How are we supposed to fight something we don’t even understand?”

Lay didn’t seem to have an answer for him, and instead said, “When I touched Mama’s life tree and was injured, it was because she was hurting so badly. The compulsion to heal was something I couldn’t control, worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. I felt Mama dying, Chanyeol. That’s more than enough to get me to believe that action has to be taken. Forget the shadow business, we can’t let Mama die.”

“If Mama dies, do we die too?” Chanyeol asked. “She created us. She gave us life and abilities. She’s tied to this planet. She is this planet. If she dies, then what happens to us?”

Lay hugged his jacket closer around his body, looking up at the sky. “I don’t know. Maybe Luhan is the only one who knows, or maybe he doesn’t know at all. But we have to vigilant. We have to figure out what’s happening to Mama, how these shadows are hurting her, and we have to stop it.”

Chanyeol was about to respond, the words on the tip of his tongue when Lay reached out to put a silencing hand on his forearm. 

With the double light from Exo’s twin moons, Chanyeol was able to quickly make out a form moving along the hallway next to the boxed off small garden. Through the glass walls it was all too easy to identify that it was the prince himself walking restlessly, hands tucked in his heavy coat as his feet dragged along.

“What’s he doing out here?” Chanyeol asked at a whisper. The palace was well insulated from the open garden, and the glass walls themselves were pretty sound proof, but he felt the need to whisper anyway. He was officially, as of the second the peace treaty had been signed, a guest of the prince, but he still felt like it might be odd to be caught out of his room at night. Without much supervision. Did Lay count as supervision? He wasn’t exactly a member of the guard, but he was in Luhan’s inner circle and probably had more influence and power than most people were aware of.

Chanyeol had seen the way Luhan looked almost instinctively to Lay for many things. It was the same way Suho turned to Baekhyun. There was power in that kind of trust. 

“Probably trying to single handedly prevent another war from breaking out after we just managed to end the last one.”

Chanyeol questioned, “How would that happen?”

A moment more, just as the prince began to disappear from sight, Tao could be seen, trailing after him, eyes searching for threats.

“If something happened to Commander Suho, or any of you from K, really, it could be very, very bad. Especially with his highness’ coronation set for three days from now. There are a lot of people that would like to see his highness struggle, and even more who were upset to see the war end. It was very profitable for a selective few. They don’t like that the prince wanted to end the war in favor of peace.”

“Is something in danger of happening to us here?” Chanyeol asked with wide eyes. “I mean, we’re not exactly defenseless, but should we be watching our backs?”

Lay nodded. “Things are different here in M. It’s always a good idea to watch your back, even from those you don’t perceive as a threat. There is a constant struggle for power in M, and it isn’t kind to the weak. If a stray assassin were to kill you, or the Commander, or even Sehun, M’s people would be conflicted and unsure--they’d lose confidence, and M can’t afford that right now. That’s not even considering how K would react.”

Chanyeol startled as Tao tapped the glass suddenly, peering at the two of them.

“Go away,” Lay said, waving Tao off with a smile on his face. “We’re fine.”

Tao hesitated, then was on his way again.

“Things,” Lay said with a sigh, “are about to get very complicated around here. Complicated and stressful. I’m not envious of anyone else right now.”

With a small groan, Chanyeol eased himself up to his feet and stretched. “I guess I’ll head back to bed.”

Lay hummed a quiet response, then added, “I’ll likely see Luhan before you do tomorrow. I like to help him dress in the morning and keep him appraised of the chatter I’ve heard around the palace. There’s a formal dinner between M and the representatives of K scheduled for tomorrow night, but I could probably get you an invitation to Luhan’s private breakfast.”

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol eased out. Luhan was married to the prince now, and the prince was days away from being king. It seemed a little … too informal to have breakfast with Luhan now. 

“You want to ask him about your dream, don’t you? Luhan’s got more answers than anyone else,” Lay reminded.

“Okay,” Chanyeol said finally. “But promise it won’t cause some kind of international incident. Baekhyun would kill me.”

“Hardly,” Lay assured. “Good night, Chanyeol. Sleep well.”

Chanyeol raised a hand faintly, feeling like he’d made a friend in that very instance. . “Good night, Lay.”

In the morning, true to word, Lay presented Chanyeol with an informal and friendly invitation to join Luhan for breakfast.

“What’s that about?” Baekhyun asked as he finished dressing.

“I have to talk to Luhan about something,” Chanyeol said dismissively. “Don’t worry, okay? I know you plan to hash out boring political things with Suho this morning anyway, and Kai and D.O. are off trying not to get into trouble.”

“I don’t know if you should go alone,” Baekhyung said, unsure. “Who else will be there?”

Chanyeol was already at the door, having decided he certainly didn’t need Baekhyun’s permission to eat with Luhan. “Lay, I think. And probably Sehun. Sehun follows Luhan around a lot. I said don’t worry, Baekhyun. I can behave myself enough to have one meal without you in the presence of Luhan.”

Baekhyun winced. “Call him by his title, will you? We’re trying to be graceful here, and foster an appropriate relationship between K and M.”

“His title?” Chanyol shrugged. If it was going to make that much of a difference, he would, as long as he got his answers.

Twenty minutes later, with food piled high on the table and Chanyeol seated across from him, Luhan said firmly, “Don’t ever call me by my title.”

Xiumin, who was placed directly to Luhan’s left, looking as casual as Chanyeol had ever seen him, cleared his throat loudly.

“Not behind doors,” Luhan compromised, making all of them swear. “I get enough of it from everyone else. I want my friends to call me by my actual name. Someone has to, other than Kris.”

The prince in question was not in attendance of the meal, and when Chanyeol asked Lay quietly about it, the healer said, “It’s tradition for the king or queen and their consort to take their morning meal separately. A divide and conquer technique with their different duties and responsibilities right after. They are expected to have dinner together, however.”

Making up for the prince’s presence seemed to be Chen, who was not partaking in the meal, and seemed to be doing his best to look stern as he stood behind Luhan. Luhan took it upon him to pester and tease Chen endlessly until he at least took a seat and nibbled on a small piece of fruit carefully.

With Sehun eagerly asking Lay about the dinner later that night, Chanyeol mumbled to Luhan quietly, “I had a weird dream last night.”

Luhan leaned towards him curiously. “Prophetic?”

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol answered honestly. “Can I ask you about your dreams?” At Luhan’s easy nod, he pressed, “Do you always see the future in your dreams? Didn’t you dream about me before we actually met? And Sehun?”

Luhan tapped the table thoughtfully and said, “All my visions are prophetic. They’re all about the future and almost always come true. That’s not the same for my dreams. Sometimes I dream about the future, and sometimes I don’t. When I do dream about the future, it’s more a fluid future. The kind of future that I can shape and change and impact. The visions are harder to change.”

Chanyeol chewed on a piece of bread, then told Luhan, “My dream was about all of us, actually. We were all there, but I didn’t recognize what was going on, or what we were doing. We all knew each other and were really good friends. But then something weird happened.”

“What?” Luhan rested his elbow on the table so he cold lean over more and give them further privacy. 

“You weren’t there,” Chanyeol said, obviously startling Luhan a little. “But I mentioned your name. And I knew everything about you. I knew what you liked and didn’t like, and where you went to school, and how we first met when we were young. Then I didn’t. That’s the best way to explain it. I knew you, and then I didn’t. By the end of my dream I couldn’t even remember your name, and it was like you never even existed at all.”

“How often do you dream about us?”

“Once in a while usually. More frequently now, though.” It was more of a guess. Sometimes he woke up remembering everything, and sometimes he had to guess that he’d even dreamed at all. But the dreams had been recurring more frequently over the past year. It actually helped now to be able to put names to faces. “It’s hard to say. But not every night. This is the first time, Luhan, that anything like that has happened. Do you think … it couldn’t have been a dream about the future. We certainly weren’t on Exo.”

Luhan said frankly, “I can’t tell you anything for sure, you know. Mama’s responsible for our dreams of this nature. She controls what we see and experience. But …”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol asked excitedly.

“We called each other by different names?” Luhan prompted. “Some of us?”

Chanyeol nodded so hard he almost pulled something in his neck. “Weird sounding names. How did you know?”

Luhan’s eyes were full of honestly as he said, “I’ve had that dream before. Once. A very long time ago. But I was there. No one forgot me then.”

“So what changed?” Chanyeol asked. “What would make us forget you? How is that even possible?”

Xiumin laughed loudly at something Chen said, Sehun and Lay joining in and it did well to mask Luhan saying, “There’s no way to say that my dream and yours are connected.”

“But you dream about the future all the time,” Chanyeol said a little frantically.” At least more than I do.”

“How do you know you haven’t been dreaming about the future this whole time?”

Chanyeol said, “If that’s the case, then at some point in the future, it’s like we’re on a whole different planet, and that’s a ridiculous idea.”

Luhan shrugged. “The future is limitless in its possibilities. Infinite. That’s why I try to take my dreams into consideration, but not live my life defined by them. Dreams are not visions, Chanyeol. That’s what you should always keep in mind.”

Still, if he was dreaming of some impossible future, it didn’t explain the absence of Luhan, or what had happened to trigger that.

“Don’t you dare!” Chen said firmly, only to be pelted by tiny pieces of bread from Sehun a second later. The youngest of them stuck his tongue out at Chen, then laughed when a storm of cheese chunks were flung back at him.

“I waited a long time for this,” Luhan said to Chanyeol, smiling fondly at the people around them. “For all of us to be together here. Mama told me to believe and to be patient and you would all come to me, but I have to admit, I didn’t always believe. I still think I’m dreaming sometimes. I have to pinch myself.”

More than anything else in that moment, Chanyeol was struck by how difficult it must have been for Luhan to simply distinguish reality from his dreams. He spent what seemed like equal times in each, and it had to get confusing at some point. Or tiring. Maybe just scary.

“Are you okay?” Luhan asked, bringing Chanyeol out of his thoughts. “Don’t worry too much about your dream. Things have a way of working themselves out. I’m confident.”

How could he not worry? Luhan was being written out of his dreams, and if that didn’t mean something, he didn’t know what did. If it happened again … the first time had been unsettling enough. He didn’t know what he’d do if it happened again.

“You’re telling me to not be concerned about a dream when you spent all of yesterday trying to convincing the twelve of us to basically take up arms against a formless evil.”

“I saw terrible things in my last vision,” Luhan admitted, “things I couldn’t block from Baekhyun no matter how much I tried. But I also saw hope. I saw us, as a united force, offering a resistance. I don’t know if we’re going to win against something that’s overtaking Mama, but I know we’re going to try, and that’s something.”

“But our chances?” Chanyeol didn’t like the look on Luhan’s face one bit. It sent a shiver down his spine immediately. 

Luhan shook his head slowly and replied, “I said that my visions are hard to change. Not impossible. I may have seen the shadows having the upper hand in my vision, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be that way. Just because something is hard, doesn’t mean it’s impossible. In fact, it probably makes that challenge all the more worthwhile.”

His heart beating a little faster, Chanyeol asked, “You can sometimes trigger your visions by getting in direct contact with Mama’s life tree, right? Do you think it would work for me? Even if I don’t usually have visions?”

“I don’t know about that, Chanyeol, but I don’t think so.” Luhan looked upset. “Why would you want to? It was just a dream, and not a scary one at that.”

“But I forgot you,” Chanyeol said forcefully. “What if I forget Baekyhun next time? And what if something like that even comes close to coming true?”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Sehun interrupted, drawing Luhan’s attention away. “Luhan, you said you’d show me around today, before you don’t have any spare time. We’re going to leave soon, right? You promised to take me everywhere.”

Sehun was apparently a greedy little brat when it came to Luhan.

“I did promise you,” Luhan said kindly. “We’ll start shortly after breakfast.” Then Luhan surprised Chanyeol by turning to him and asking, “Would you like to come with us? Kris and Commander Suho will be tied up in mediation all day long today, and I’m in charge of hospitality for as long as you are here. I’m going to show Sehun around the palace and surrounding city as much as possible today, and we always have room for one more.”

“Hey!” Sehun called out, clearly unhappy at the inclusion, but the look on Xiumin’s face said Luhan probably wouldn’t have been going without him either.

Quietly, his voice almost at a whisper, Luhan added, “We could talk more about what’s bothering you.”

Chanyeol lifted a spoon full of warm oats and grinned triumphantly at Sehun, or maybe a little childishly, and told Luhan, “I’d love to.”


	14. Suho

If M knew how to do two things exceptionally well, the first was wage war. They’d seemingly perfected it over the years, which was something in Suho’s opinion that ought never to be perfected. But the second thing, and equally not surprising, was that M clearly knew how to throw a good party.

“I think,” Baekhyun said, standing next to Suho almost deathly still, “that I’m imagining this. These are clearly not the same people who were so willing to wipe us off the face of the planet less than a weeks ago.”

Suho gave a gruff nod. It was hard to believe that the man carting Chanyeol around the floor in a complex dance that Suho actually had no idea how he knew, laughing at his jokes and treating him like an old friend, was actually one of King Kris’ generals. 

“It’s a farce,” Suho said, trying not to sound huffy. The rest of them were spread around the room equally, with Sehun desperately trying not to look suspicious with the glass of wine in his hands, Kai looking sullen the second anyone tried to approach him for a dance, and D.O. apparently mesmerized by whatever a young woman in a floor length green dress was telling him. 

A closer look at the situation told him Sehun had been purposely given the wine despite it being very clear he was underage by M standards to consume an alcoholic drink. D.O.’s companion was actually the daughter of a military uniformed man with a stern, calculating look. And Kai … well, Kai was actually just being Kai, and Suho didn’t need to follow his line of sight to see that he was so uncooperative at the moment because Luhan was currently caught up in his husband’s arms.

Chanyeol and his companion passed in front of them in a sweeping motion, speaking to each other in hushed tones that couldn’t be heard over the volume of the orchestra.

Baekhyun’s eyes narrowed. And Suho’s actually widened as his friend said, “If that man’s hand slips any further down Chanyeol’s back …”

Repeating himself, Suho said, “It’s a farce, Baekhyun. The way we’re being treated. They’re being overly friendly and fake because they know we’re the king’s special guests and they understand we have some sort of sway over him at the moment. They don’t know what it is, but look at the way they’re acting. They’re making political moves. Nothing more.”

“There is nothing political about the way that man is touching Chanyeol.”

Okay. Fair was fair. Even Suho had to admit that the General’s hand was almost obscenely low on Chanyeol’s back as they spun around. But Chanyeol didn’t seem to have a problem with it, chattering happily about something, his hand still firm on his companion’s shoulder.

The orchestra stopped playing with a flourish and Suho looked away from Chanyeol, clapping along with the rest of the guests.

A brief break was announced and within a half second Chanyeol was making his way over to them, dressed in the fanciest clothes that Chanyeol had probably ever worn, looking handsome and pleased about something.

“Wipe that smile off your face,” Baekhyun said, arms crossing. “Or you can sleep alone tonight.”

Chanyeol scoffed. “Don’t be jealous, Baek. I’m just fishing around.”

“For what?” Baekhyun asked.

Suho cut in, surprised, “What did you find out?”

Chanyeol gave a toothy grin. “That was General Choi. Aside from having a filthy, wandering hand, and propositioning me for later this night after I already told him I was taken, he’s also in charge of M’s specialist division of the military. He’s got a green thumb himself, which I know, doesn’t sound really threatening right off the bat, until you realize that he could strangle you with a few stray vines before you even realized what was happening.” Chanyeol cut his eyes towards Baekhyun. “I wasn’t schmoozing up to him without a reason, Baekhyun. I was just trying to pry information out of him, and he apparently has a weakness for very good looking fire wielders.”

“Anything of interest?” Suho asked. This was King Kris’ coronation party. He’d been officially crowned less that two hours earlier in an elaborate and achingly long ceremony, but Suho was still wary of his promise to keep the peace between M and K. He’d never let loose an opportunity to learn something about a country that could be their enemy again in the blink of an eye.

“He likes our dirt.”

Suho frowned. “Our dirt?”

“Our minerals, right?” Baekhyun corrected. “Commander, K is rich in several important and rare minerals. We have almost exclusive control of the land, but we haven’t recently been able extract anything. We haven’t had the machinery or manpower.”

Chanyeol’s pleased smile spread. “I told the general that I was already taken by a handsome military man and he assumed I meant you, Commander. That’s when he really started laying the compliments on thick. He wants a crack at our land and he thinks I can get you to let him. He doesn’t necessarily think this is something the king really needs to know about right away. Wouldn’t the king be interested in knowing that? And wouldn’t he be appreciative to us if we told him?”

A little awed, Suho said, “Good work, Chanyeol.”

Huffy, Baekhyun relayed, “You let him put his hand awfully low on your back.”

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol said. Then he put his arms around Baekhyun, bent in and kissed him deeply. Suho rolled his eyes but heard Chanyeol say clearly, “I meant it when I told him I was taken, and no amount of compliments will ever make me change my mind about where my loyalties lie. Do I need to convince you of that?”

Baekhyun answered back suggestively, his voice a little rough, “How would you do that?”

Without so much as a goodbye Suho took off through the mingling crowd, snagging Sehun’s arm and dragging him away from the gaggle of teenagers who had started following him around, begging him for a demonstration of his ability.

“You are not old enough to drink this,” Suho said, passing the half empty glass off to a nearby servant. 

Sehun stumbled a little over his feet as he responded, “They gave it to me, didn’t they? And I’ve never had to be a certain age to drink what I wanted before. An age restriction is stupid.”

Suho continued leading him towards where the king of was standing, with Luhan and Lay. “We’re in M right now, at the king’s coronation party no less. We will abide by their rules, Sehun. You’re representing K here. You might be young, but you know what that means.”

“Sehun! Commander!”

Luhan’s sweet voice cut through the room easily and the king’s husband was easy to spot, waving a hand, up on his tiptoes, dressed in finely spun silk of a golden color.

“An age restriction is stupid,” Sehun repeated quietly, “But there’s at least one good thing about M.”

Before Suho could chastise him about his obvious crush, Sehun was darting forward to Luhan’s side, thanking him once more for his special clothing, assuring Luhan that he’d never owned anything as beautiful as the outfit. 

“Your majesty,” Suho greeted properly, having to remind himself of the change in title. Of course a title didn’t necessary make a king. It would take time before Suho could believe in the king’s promises. However, there was tentative hope. Suho wasn’t such a fatalist. 

“Commander Suho,” the king returned. “How are you liking the party?”

“It’s …” Suho gestured around. “Unexpected.”

“A spectacle,” the king agreed. “It’s posturing, more than anything else, but it’s an obligation. An unavoidable one.”

A servant was passing by with a tray of wine, and when he saw Sehun’s fingers twitching, Suho said firmly, “Don’t even think about it.”

“Fine,” Sehun said, plucking at an invisible thread on his shirt.

“Come on, Commander,” Luhan laughed, lifting a glass off the tray and handing it to Sehun. “They water the wine down significantly. Trust me. His majesty and I were attending these parties as soon as were old enough to walk, and we used to make a game out of who could acquire the most glasses of wine.”

A smile bloomed on the king’s face. “But you were never very interested in the wine. You just wanted to prove that you could get more than I could. You were very good at it, as I remember. People had a very hard time saying no to your face.”

Luhan laughed out, “That’s not a lie.” Luhan’s gaze slid back to Suho. “This party will last through the night, likely until the sun rises. We’d have the whole of M’s aristocracy passed out in our ballroom by half that time if they didn’t water the wine down. It’s perfectly fine for Sehun to have a glass.”

It was obvious that Luhan didn’t meant to be as presumptuous as he was, and yet it grated on Suho’s nerves right away. Sehun was Suho’s responsibility until they were back in K territory. Sehun was barely out of childhood and still susceptible to bad influences. Bad behavior had to be curbed immediately, not indulged due to friendship.

Still, it was better not to ruffle any feathers, and Luhan was incredibly powerful in his current position. Suho had no doubt that one word from Luhan could sway the king to any new course or action. Luhan had to be placated. 

The king nodded across the ballroom to D.O. and said, “You could try to enjoy yourself a little, Commander. Your subordinate seems to have found himself a little. That’s Captain Lee’s youngest daughter. She had her introduction to court last season, if he’s interested.”

The last thing Suho honestly wanted to do was tie himself or K more fully to M. They needed to be separate and independent for a while. Suho was more than willing to indulge in Luhan and Baekhyun that there was a very real threat to both M and K on the horizon, and he didn’t want to foster any foul behavior between the two countries, but K had to stand on her own feet for a while. She had to prove herself. 

“I’ll be sure to mention that to him,” Suho said, more than a little worried that D.O. had been by her side the whole night so far. He’d danced only with her, and had given up on pestering Kai for the pleasure of her company instead. For D.O. and his dedication to Kai, that meant this girl was someone he was genuinely interested in. 

The music struck back up and Sehun rushed to bow his head in respect to the king before asking Luhan, “Will you please dance with me? I know you have that dance card and you’re supposed to use it, but I--”

“Go ahead,” the king said, obviously not seeing Sehun as any sort of threat. “Luhan’s dance card is to maintain the illusion of availability. He can choose to do with it what he wants.”

“Let’s dance,” Luhan said, linking his arm through Sehun’s. “Do you know how to lead, or would you like me to?”

The king excused himself quickly after that to speak with Tao in hushed tones, and it was then that Suho realized he was left alone with M’s healer.

“Commander,” Lay said quietly. “You might want to consider taking Luhan’s suggestion to heart. Or at least pretend to. There are people watching.”

There were. Suho had known that there’d be eyes on him the whole night, waiting and gauging his reaction to being around M’s new king, but for the past few minutes he’d let himself forget that. 

“What would you have me do?” Suho asked, “Ply myself with wine?”

Lay smiled and Suho was suddenly struck by how genuinely handsome the healer was. “You could start by asking me to dance. I’ve already danced with Chanyeol. I’m convinced it’s a fluke that he can waltz, but I’d like another bit of data before I form my conclusion about dance standards in K.”

Almost easily Suho offered his arm to Lay. “Most of our parents taught us, but even I didn‘t know Chanyeol was that good. My parents were of an era when M and K were simply Exo. They learned to dance when they were young, and even after the split happened, they still taught me.”

Another sweep of the dance floor showed that Luhan and Sehun were dancing easily, and D.O. was still pressed in close with the same girl. But this time Baekhyun and Chanyeol had joined the other couples on the floor, both looking happier than they had the last dance.

“When will you go back to K?” Lay asked, his mouth near Suho’s ear. They danced with a respectable amount of space between them, but some of the more difficult steps required Suho to grip Lay tightly and swing him wide before drawing him in close. In those moments when they were the closest, it barely felt like there was anything between them. Suho hardly breathed in those moments. “It must be time, soon.”

Mouth dry out of sudden nervousness, Suho prayed his hand wouldn’t start sweating and answered, “As soon as tomorrow I expect. I need to be in K very shortly to oversee the upcoming elections. Several candidates have already emerged and I have a feeling the vote will be held by the end of the month, after the candidates have declared their platforms.”

Lay’s hand slid a little further around Suho’s shoulder and he said quietly, “There’s another reason I wanted you to ask me to dance.”

“Oh?”

Suho barely turned his head in time to see Kai stalking across the room to cut in between Sehun and Luhan. He missed a step because of the scene and probably would have missed a second if Lay hadn’t been there, guiding him along. 

“Don’t mind them,” Lay said. “The king won’t like it, but he also won’t make a fuss. He trusts Luhan.”

“That’s not the one I’m worried about,” Suho said, holding Lay for another quick turn as the tempo picked up. Another spin revealed that Luhan was dancing flawlessly with Kai not too far away, and though Sehun looked a little put out, another young man was there a second later to continue the dance with him.

Remembering, Suho asked, “Why did you ask me to dance?”

“Luhan asked me to get you alone, and this happened to be the best way, without infringing upon either of our honor.”

Suho laughed loudly at that, then apologized at the look on Lay’s face. “Sorry. I know that sort of thing matters here. Maybe I’ve grown uncivilized during the war.” He had to remind himself that he was a soldier and Lay was not. And M was very much a country steeped in tradition and conservative values. K was radically different in its modernism. 

“It is important,” Lay said with a sigh. “Especially for me. I can’t serve Luhan properly if I don’t uphold my imagine. And unless you’re planning on asking me to marry you, I don’t think you want anyone presuming that we’re slipping off for a romantic rendezvous.”

“Marry,” Suho choked out. Marriage was the furthest thing from his mind. How could he even begin to think about marriage when his country was trying to rebuild itself? There was no doubt in his mind that Lay was his type in every way, from his calm demeanor to his attractive features and confident poise. But Suho wasn’t looking to marry anyone. Not even M’s talented healer. “That isn’t exactly in my future.”

Lay indulged him with a kind look. “That you know of.”

Suho had to agree, “That I know of.”

“No,” Lay continued, “Luhan asked me to speak to you on behalf of his majesty. I know the two of you have agreed to a joint operation of sorts in your investigations. Each of you will be sending one M citizen and one K to the Dead Lands and the Forbidden City. But Luhan wants to keep a liaison from K here, to help him investigate Mama’s life tree more thoroughly. He’s proposing in return that one of M’s guardian’s returns with you to K to explore the cave where the book was found. If anything, this will continue to foster the peace between M and K.”

It actually wasn’t such a bad idea. “Who did Luhan and his majesty have in mind?”

“Wait,” Lay cautioned suddenly, the music reaching a mild crescendo as the dance called for partners to temporarily swap out. For another turn of the dance floor Suho was subjected to dancing with a short, uncoordinated woman who apologized for her clumsiness almost constantly.

It made taking Lay back into his arms that much more of a relief a few minutes later.

Lay danced confidently with him. “Back to our previous conversation.”

Suho nodded, considering his options again. Who would be left behind? Not Kai. That much was clear. “I assume your king would appreciate his husband’s former lover not remaining here in M any longer that necessary.”

Lay gave him what could only be described as a very interesting look. “You might be surprised to learn the things his majesty is willing to withstand for the sake of his consort’s happiness. But no. Not Kai.”

Earlier Lay had said the king would not interfere with Kai sweeping in to steal Luhan for a dance, and it seemed to be a claim easily proven. As Suho danced with Lay, he had a wide view of the couples around them, and even further back to where the king was poised on the edge of the dance floor. He wasn’t moving to intercept, but he was watching with keen eyes, and Suho was willing to bet anything that he was trying to work out what Kai and Luhan were currently saying to each other. They were simply turning too fast in the dance to read their lips. 

“Luhan would like it to be Baekhyun, probably because he’s grown close with him. But even he admits that Baekhyun is the only one who really knows how to find the cave again. It can’t be him,” Lay said. 

“There aren’t many options left.”

“Chanyeol?” Lay proposed. “He’s one of your officers, a prominent figure for K in many ways, and he’s been connected to Mama. Did you know he’s been having odd dreams even more than usual, as of late?”

“I know he has dreams,” Suho eased out. “Ones that don’t make sense to him and might be precognitive.”

“He’s been having them every night since arriving at the palace. They’re getting increasingly more frightening for him. He started speaking to Luhan about them a few days ago and I think Luhan is helping him manage them. It would be beneficial to both K, M, and Chanyeol himself, for him to remain here after you leave.”

Suho looked for Chanyeol and Baekyhun instinctively in the crowd. “I don’t think Baekhyun is going to enjoy being separated from him again so soon.”

Lay squeezed his hand in Suho’s grip. “They look very much in love. But the truth is this is bigger than them. It’s bigger than all of us. M is home to some of the oldest archives on the planet. Chanyeol could help lessen the load on Luhan’s shoulders looking through them for any relevant information.”

“I guess you’re right,” Suho said, giving in. There really wasn’t any other option. Kai couldn’t stay, D.O. wouldn’t want to, even with the attention being paid to him by the pretty girl, and Sehun wasn’t mature enough for the task. Not to mention his infatuation with Luhan was set to cause all sorts of problems. “I’ll tell Chanyeol before the night is done.”

Lay nodded his approval. “Now for the second issue. Who will be going with you to K?”

Another couple moved dangerously close to running into them and Suho found himself pulling Lay protectively away, feeling utterly flushed with heat and confusion over the instinct to keep him safe. He hoped it wasn’t too noticeable, because he was feeling absolutely embarrassed. 

“Xiumin or Chen are the two best candidates,” Lay said, not questioning the issue as to why Suho had pulled them so closely together. “They’re both fluent in your dialect, are familiar with the country, and might serve as bridges between M and K. After all, they both were once citizens of K.”

“Really?” Suho pressed, surprised to hear that. Both men were in high positions within M’s military. 

“Correct,” Lay said. “Tao is his majesty’s personal guard as of right now, and Luhan leaving the country is completely out of the question. Not only is his health fragile, but he plays an invaluable role between the palace and the citizens.”

The music was winding down and Suho realized they had precious time before it was over and done with. He could ask Lay to dance again later in the night, after dancing with others, but it couldn’t be twice in a row. Not unless he wanted people to start making assumptions. Favoritism for whatever reason was never ignored. 

“What about you?” Suho asked quickly. “You seem exceptionally skilled in foreign relations and politics.”

Amused, Lay admitted, “I’ve never been out of M. I’ve never even been far from the palace. I don’t deny I’d like to go and see K and be of help, but I’m tied to Luhan. If anything happens between him and Mama, or if he needs me in any way, I have to be here for him. Plus, I doubt you’d want me following you around, asking questions about your culture.”

A genuine smile crept up on Suho’s face. “I wouldn’t mind it. Curiosity should be cultivated.”

Lay’s head ducked a little as his face turned a slight red. “Then maybe one day?”

“Just say the word,” Suho grinned back, wondering how he’d gone from so nervous to so at ease in the span of minutes.

“It’ll have to be Chen,” Lay decided. “I’m sure Luhan will agree with me. Xiumin is practically attached to Luhan. We could ask him to go, and his majesty could order him, but it would be a fight, maybe the likes of which none of us have ever seen. Xiumin’s always been a little overprotective of Luhan, and we’ve always respected that. Neither do I think Luhan would let his best friend travel so far from his side at the moment. Luhan can be twice as overprotective as Xiumin. Separating them wouldn’t be smart.”

With a flourish the music ended and Suho was loathed to let go of Lay if only to clap for the orchestra. 

As they were parting, Lay whispered to him, “Luhan will send you an invitation to sit with him tomorrow before you leave. When he does, bring Chanyeol with you.”

Then Lay was gone, weaving through the crowd to Luhan’s side. Suho watched as Lay put a gentle hand on Luhan’s elbow and said something very deliberate to both him and Kai. It must have been more than enough because Luhan allowed Lay to pull him away, his fingers sliding out of Kai’s grasp.

It was tragically poetic. 

As expected, when Suho delivered the news to Chanyeol, and by default everyone else later that night, the six K citizens crowded into Suho’s room, Baekhyun was upset and vocal about it.

“It’s an order,” Suho said firmly, giving no room for disagreement. “Chnayeol will stay here as a gesture of good will, he’ll be treated as a VIP for the entirety of his stay, and furthermore, he’ll be able to help Luhan search through their archives.”

“But--” Baekhyun tried.

“This is not open for discussion,” Suho rumbled out. “You and Chanyeol are members of K. You are under my authority, and you will do as I say.”

“Why can’t I stay?” Sehun interrupted. “I could stay and help Luhan. I’m not a member of the military. I’m not under your authority.”

The insolence was trying on Suho’s otherwise very impressive patience. “You are very much under my authority,” Suho corrected, moving to counter Sehun. “I am your Commander, regardless if you are a member of the military or otherwise. Until K holds official elections and a representative is chosen, I am the head of our country. I make decisions for all K citizens, which includes you.”

There was fury brewing under Sehun’s skin. That much was clear as his hands turned to fists and trembled a bit. 

“Also,” Suho continued, eyes cutting to slits, “your infatuation with the king’s husband is inappropriate. You may feel free to find yourself attracted to anyone of your choosing, but you may not act on those feelings in any way. Am I understood? Luhan is the king’s husband. He indulges you because he finds you amusing and young, but he doesn’t return your feelings. He’s got enough people to love before you, and that’s problem enough.”

Kai stiffen, demanding, “Don’t bring me into this.”

Suho leveled a heavy finger up at him. “I know you don’t want me to start in on you again about your inability to keep it in your pants, Kai. You nearly brought ruin to our country with your sexual urges.”

“It was more than just sex,” Kai spat out. “And just because you’re some barren, cold, unfeeling robot doesn’t mean you get to--”

“Kai!”

D.O. wrenched Kai back a few steps, shaking him as he said, “Watch what you’re saying, and show Commnader Suho some respect!” He blew out a deep breath. “You starting a relationship with Luhan was more than inappropriate and you know it, so don’t pretend to be innocent. We got lucky in that matter. Commander Suho is just trying to stop anything like that from happening again with Sehun.”

“I can control myself,” Sehun argued, voice rising. “And you don’t understand.”

“I understand that the king thinks it’s cute right now,” Suho said. “He doesn’t see you as a threat, and you should be down on your knees thanking Mama that he doesn’t. Because the second that changes you’ll be creating the kind of incident that wars are started over!”

“I--” Sehun tried to say.

“This discussion is over!” Suho yelled, his patience more than worn thin. It seemed to have disappeared completely. “Tomorrow morning you will bring yourself out of your room to say goodbye to the king and his husband with a smile on your face. You will thank them for their hospitality and then you will come home with us. You can do whatever you want once you’re across the boarder to K, but you will be going. I don’t care if I have to drag you there myself!”

Suhun spun on heel and slammed Suho’s door open as hard as he could in his desperate bid to escape the argument.

“Commander,” Baekhyun said quietly. “He’s just a kid.”

“He’s a year younger than the king’s personal head of the guard. He’s no longer a child, Baekhyun. He reached maturity early this year.”

“Tao has been in M’s military since a very young age,” Baekhyun responded. “He’s been trained to be a solider from childhood. Sehun is a civilian. And we both know that reaching the age of legal maturity doesn’t mean that he’s no longer a child.”

Suho brought a hand up to massage his temple. “This conversation is done. Everyone go to bed. Baekhyun, I know you want to fight me on this issue of Chanyeol staying, but it’s decided.”

As D.O. and Kai shuffled off to their respective rooms, Chanyeol asked Suho, “Do you know how long?”

Suho pretended not to notice the way Baekhyun’s fingers were laced through Chanyeol’s as he told him, “At least until our deadline.” He’d expected Chanyeol to fight him on the decision as much as Baekhyun, but he was blissfully thankful when it didn’t appear to be the case.

“If anything happens to Chanyeol after we leave him here,” Baekhyun said, his tone implying the beginning of a threat.

“Let’s go to bed,” Chanyeol said before Baekhyun could finish anything. “I’m tired.”

Suho closed the door behind them and then made the short trip back to his bed. He collapsed down onto it, folding his hands across his stomach and staring up at the canopy. 

He wasn’t cold and unfeeling. He understood the way Sehun felt. He knew why Baekhyun was hurting. He was more than capable of comprehending the way that his people were upset. But he didn’t have the luxury of indulging them, or even empathizing. Maybe there’d be time for that in a couple of years when things had settled down.

He went to bed that night trying desperately not to think about the way Lay had felt so solid and warm against him, the way his voice had soothed the worry out of Suho’s mind if only for a moment, and how much he really wanted to show Lay all the important things to him in K. 

He had a dreamless sleep that night, which was just as well.

In the morning he woke early, just as the sun was coming up, and declined having breakfast with the king, feigning a headache. It was petty, and childish for his age, but he was tired, more like weary, and he couldn’t figure out if he wanted to see Lay before he left, or desperately avoid him.

Was this sort of like what Kai had felt like after first meeting Luhan?

Doing his best to push that from his mind, he ate his meal in peace, dressed for the day and prepared himself for the long journey back to K. Or maybe for the inevitable stress that would greet him the moment he was back.

A sharp knock sounded at his door twenty minutes before he was due to present himself to Luhan with Chanyeol. And until he actually pulled on the knob, he’d half expected to find an angry Baekhyun. Or an angry Kai. Or an angry Sehun.

Upon further reflection it was possible that everyone was mad at him currently.

However, it was not anyone he’d been expecting. It was probably the last person who he thought would show up at his door so early in the morning.

Looking a little white in the face, Lay greeted, “Commander Suho. I’m sorry to disturb you right before you meet the king’s consort.”

“No, it’s okay,” Suho said, eyebrows high. Should he look nonchalant? Was he supposed to invite Lay in? Why was Lay even at his door in the first place? “Can I help you with something?”

Leaning a little to the side to peer around Suho, Lay asked, “Is Sehun here with you?”

Maybe on mere reflex, Suho turned to look back into his room. “Not since last night when I spoke with him. Why?” He knew immediately something was wrong. “What’s happened?”

Quickly, Lay explained, “Sehun and Luhan have developed a routine of sorts about breakfast. They almost always have breakfast together, and Luhan was planning an extra surprise for Sehun this morning. He’s got a bit of a sweet tooth and Luhan had our best bakers working all night long with our cooks on the perfect farewell breakfast. Only, Sehun never showed this morning.”

There was a commotion in the hallway and then suddenly Suho was face to face with an openly worried Luhan.

Remembering himself, Suho dipped his head respectfully and asked, “Your highness?”

“Enough,” Luhan said quickly, hands wringing nervously in front of him. “Titles are for my husband who is obligated to have them. Has Lay told you what’s happened?”

“He was attempting,” Suho said, catching the almost full squad of guards who’d appeared behind Luhan a second later, some of them out of breath liked they’d had to run to keep up. 

“We were supposed to have breakfast together,” Luhan said before Lay could continue. “I expected him to be there, but when he wasn’t, I understood. He’s been enjoying his stay here and we’ve become friends. Parting is going to be hard for him, and I wanted to give him the space he needed, so I didn’t send for him.”

“He’s probably sulking in his room right now,” Suho said with a sigh. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to end the visit to M.

“He’s not,” Lay said, nodding at Luhan. “We already checked there, and we’ve been searching the palace for him since then. There is a very real possibility, if he isn’t with you, that he isn’t in the palace anymore.”

It only took a minute more to check with D.O. and Kai, then Chanyeol and Baekhyun, to realize that Sehun had completely disappeared.

“I don’t understand,” Luhan said, pausing to receive an update from the newly arrived Xiumin and Chen. “If he isn’t in the palace, where could he be? We toured the city a few days ago, and he enjoyed himself, but there wouldn’t really be anything for him there.”

Suho ran a hand through his short hair. “We fought last night. He was upset that he wasn’t going to be allowed to stay. I thought he’d gone off to pout like a child. I thought he was in his room.”

Lay’s fingers subtly brushed Luhan’s comfortingly as he asked Suho, “Do you know of anywhere Sehun might have gone? He’s fairly safe in the palace, but outside our walls he’d be at the mercy of anyone else. We know he isn’t helpless, and his grasp of our dialect is surprisingly good, but we can’t protect him out there if he’s on his own. And I don’t think I need to remind you that a lot of M citizens are still extremely prejudiced against those from K.”

With a frown, Luhan asked, “Sehun wanted to stay?”

Suho gave him a nod. “However, I told him that wasn’t an option. I’m responsible for him.”

“If he wanted to stay,” Luhan said, almost angrily, “there would have been plenty of room for him. He’s my friend, and I don’t have many of those.”

“Luhan,” Xiumin said quietly, touching the communications device fitted into his ear. “There are reports of someone …”

“Huh?” 

“Of someone,” Xiumin continued, “climbing Mama’s life tree. The guards at her life tree are reporting a very blond figure about halfway up the tree.” 

Luhan demanded, “Can they confirm it’s him?”

“How the hell is he managing that?” Suho demanding. 

“It’s him,” Xiumin said definitively. “But they can’t get him down, and he’s only going higher.”

“We need to bring him down,” Luhan said, turning to Suho. “Will you come with me to talk him down? You claim he’s your responsibility and I don’t doubt that, but as my guests I’ve also taken responsibility for all of you. I can’t let anything happen to him.”

Xiumin seemed to startle Luhan by reaching out with a strong hand to grip his bicep. “I don’t think you should be going anywhere near Mama’s life tree.”

A dark look crossed Luhan’s face. “What exactly are my husband’s orders, Xiumin?”

Ah, Suho saw the guilt on Xiumin’s face immediately. 

“I’m not to let you anywhere near the life tree,” Xiumins said, his voice even. “That’s my first and only task for the time being. His majesty was very clear.”

Eyes narrowing, Luhan asked, “Do you really think that you can stop me if I decide to go?”

“No,” Xiumin said honestly. “You know I couldn’t stop you. But I hope that you’ll listen to me when I tell you that it might be your life on the line if you get too close. If anything happens to you, where does that leave me?”

“I’m not trying to induce a vision,” Luhan said a little haughtily. “I have no plans to actually touch the life tree. Now, I’m going to get my friend before he falls and hurts himself. You can come with me, or you can stay here, but you’re not going to get in my way.” Luhan shot to Chen who could be seen inching away, “Just go and tell the king. I know that’s what you plan to do. I don’t care. I’m still going.”

Luhan was off, nearly halfway down the hallway before Suho could say to Xiumin, “He’s more than a little scary when he’s determined.”

Xiumin responded, “That’s just the tip of the ice burg,” and then they were both chasing after the king’s consort.

As reported, despite the disbelief factor, when they arrived at the life tree Suho could very clearly see Sehun more than halfway up the massive trunk. 

Again he found himself asking, “How is he doing that?” The life tree was riddled with jagged lines, cuts and chips, but nothing solid enough to use to climb. And exhaustion should have been a major factor.

“Can’t you tell?” Luhan asked, pushing at his hair as it blew around him. “Can’t you feel it? Sehun’s using his ability to practically push himself up the life tree. His control is greatly improved as of late.”

It was still close to an hour before the visiting area opened to the public, but Suho didn’t think they had close to that much time left. It would be more than just a diplomatic incident if they couldn’t talk Sehun down before the king arrived. This was something Suho wasn’t confident even Luhan could manage.

Suho didn’t know how he’d live it down if the king had to fly up and bring Sehun down.

“Sehun!” Luhan shouted, cupping his hand over his mouth. “What are you doing?”

Sehun was clearly too far up to respond to them, and the wind was destroying Luhan’s voice as it tried to carry to him. But as Sehun turned to look down at them, he was very aware of their presence. 

“He’s a fool,” Suho breathed out, trying not to let it show how worried he was. Sehun wasn’t one of his men. He wasn’t someone that Suho had known for more than a week. But there was no denying the connection Suho felt to him. An almost paternal connection. If Sehun fell … 

“Sehun!” Luhan called out, distress written across his face. “I don’t think he can hear me.”

A newly arrived Kai said, “I don’t think he’d listen to you even if he could. He’s obviously got it in his mind to do something.” D.O. was right behind him, settling next to Kai’s side.

“Could you teleport up and get him?” Luhan asked.

“Maybe,” Kai reasoned, “but it would be tricky. There’s always a second of disorientation when I appear. And I wouldn’t be able to actually appear on a solid surface, unless we’re talking about one of those branches, which are all pretty far away from Sehun at the moment. I could try a midair grab, but I could miss and knock him off. I might not be able to get to him before we both hit the ground.”

Mouth pressed into a tight line, Luhan said, “I think I could pull him down from here. Controlling his decent would be the most challenging part.”

Suho tried not to let his eyes open too widely. There was no way Luhan meant he was going to pull Sehun down with his ability. Everyone knew Luhan was powerful, but Sehun was up so high, and he weighed a good deal. The amount of sheer power that would take to fight gravity and bring Sehun down safely seemed beyond anyone, including Luhan.

“Don’t try it,” Xiumin said, stepping forward to block Luhan. “We don’t have any clue what would happen if you used your ability that much this close to the life tree. You know you exert energy when you use your ability. That energy could interact with the life tree. We’re not risking it, no matter how you threaten me or what you try to say. I’ll--”

“Guys,” D.O. said, pointing up.

Suho let his head tip back and he found Sehun’s form on the tree once more. The younger man had obviously stopped, but for what reason was impossible to tell.

“Xiumin,” Luhan ground out. “That is my friend up there.”

“I don’t care,” Xiumin snapped back. “You’re my friend down here.”

Suho ignored the bickering that was starting to break out, watching Sehun instead. He was starting to move again. Suho watched him reach a hand out and then without warning, making Suho shout in fear, Sehun was falling.

Only then he wasn’t because he wasn’t there at all.

“Not me!” Kai said quickly as all eyes turned to him, chaos breaking out among them.

“Where did he go?” Luhan asked, his voice pitched high in his panic. “Where is he?”

Suho shook his head. “ I don’t know.”

“Sehun!” Luhan shouted again. “Sehun!”

Chanyeol asked loudly, “How could he just disappear into thin air like that?”

Suho forced himself to take a deep breath. Sehun was gone, the people around him were in a panic, and Suho was left searching for a way to explain what he’d seen. Contrary to the others, Suho’s eyesight was exceptionally good, and it hadn’t looked to him that Sehun had so much as disappeared from sight, as disappeared into the life tree. 

But how was that possible?

And how were they going to get Sehun back?


	15. Chen

The vehicle he was traveling in hit a particularly rough patch of road and Chen was knocked up and out of his seat. He clenched his teeth in annoyance, braced his hand upward on the roof and endured it without so much as a sound.

Next to him, jostling around like it was second nature, and with a big smile splitting across his face, D.O. remarked, “You could at least try not to look like you’re going to your execution. I promise you, Commander Suho wouldn’t want to start a new war on your account.”

Chen glared at him. “That’s a comforting thought. Really.”

D.O. rolled his eyes and leaned forward to ask Suho in the front seat, “Can you just tell our guest of honor that he’s not being driven to his execution?”

Suho rolled his eyes and remarked loudly, “I wouldn’t start another war over something so trivial.”

Apparently they were all comedians.

Chen let his gaze slid away from the two K citizens nearest him. To say he wasn’t pleased to be going alone, back into K territory so soon after the end of the war, was saying the least. Or maybe it was just the thought of going home to K that scared him. In any case, he was hurdling towards the last place he wanted to be, and there was no escape. 

Luhan had asked him specifically to go and act as M’s liaison, and to help Baekhyun hunt for clues to Mama’s impending doom. While Chen thought a diplomat, someone like Lay, was more suited for the task, he couldn’t have said no to Luhan no matter how much he wanted to. Luhan was more than just his friend now. Luhan was the king’s direct heir, and the royal consort. Saying no wasn’t an option. 

“For the record,” Chen said, taking in the landscape around him, “I might not have chosen to come here of my own volition, but I recognize the importance of continuing to broker peace between our two people. More than that, especially after what happened with Sehun, it’s of the utmost importance that we make some kind of headway before the alignment.”

From near him, D.O. said, “It is a little weird to think that we’re about to have one of M’s elite in K’s central capital in a few hours. And for the record, you’re not the only one a little uncomfortable. If anything happens to you while you’re in our custody, your king is going to be crawling up our asses.”

Suho interjected, “You’re my personal guest, and that extends you a great deal of protection. Nothing will happen to you here. I gave your king my word, the same as he gave me his at the exchange.”

They were passing through what looked like a dilapidated town, filled with more dust and dirt than people. It was nothing like he’d experienced in M, especially living in the palace. He was well aware that K was struggling economically, and that the war had taken a heavy toll on the people, but he hadn’t suspected things to be quite so bad.

He found himself saying, “This is the third town we’ve passed through today, and the worst of them so far.” Chen turned back to D.O.. “Are things this bad everywhere?”

“Mostly,” Suho said for him. “It’s hard to be a farmer and a solider at the same time, and our citizens have had to make that choice for several years.”

“But I’ve never …” Chen trailed off, feeling slightly sick as he caught sight of a group of young, dirty, scavenging children. They were digging through the trash and Chen had never so much as heard of a M child going without a meal. Maybe it happened, but he’d never seen it.

D.O. scoffed, “You’re part of the king’s elite guard. You want me to honestly believe that you haven’t been in K at any point in the past ten years? This isn’t exactly a recent development, and M soldiers have been known to deliberately torch our fields to starve our people out. Children included.”

The vehicle made a sharp turn and Chen was thrown back in his seat. Through the rear window he could see the second military vehicle with the rest of their group, and even further back the recently acquired escort.

“It’s not in my designation,” Chen said dismissively, bringing his eyes away from the people on the streets.

“Designation?” D.O. asked, clearly confused.

Even Suho appeared to be uncertain, as he turned more fully in his seat to pay better attention. It was probably the first time Chen had seen him look away from the road ahead of them. Suho looked like he was so antsy to get there that he might shove their driver out of his seat at some point and take over.

“What are your responsibilities as a solider in K’s army?” Chen inquired of D.O.

D.O. rattled off, “To protect K’s right to independence, protect K’s people and protect our Commander. Those are the main three.”

“Those three?”

“Those three primarily,” D.O. confirmed. “Why?”

Chen held up three fingers and wiggled them a little. “You’re responsible for all three in K, but in M, those are three different components of our military. When a citizen enlists in the military they’re immediately sorted into one of three designations.”

Chen ticked off his first finger. “The first possibility for recently assigned soldiers is that they’re responsible for maintaining a combative force that is ready to march for war at any time. Essentially, they’re the standing army.” He continued, “The second group is the division dedicated to civil order. They maintain the security of M’s civilians. And the third, the one that I belong to, is assigned to guard the royal family. We take our designations without choice. And with very few exceptions, they don’t change.”

“And you’re a palace guard,” Suho prompted.

“Correct.” Chen nodded. “On my first week in the military, after graduating from my training period, I was assigned to the palace as protection for the royal family. My talents and ability got me assigned to the then prince’s guard. Because of that, I’ve never been away from the palace, and likely never would have, if not for these new circumstances.”

Suho questioned, “What about Tao? I know for a fact that he’s been in K territory before. He’s gone up against some of my men directly.”

“Tao is a special case,” Chen argued. “He’s the king’s personal protection. Whenever his majesty travels somewhere, Tao goes with him. And sometimes, preserving the king’s safety means eliminating threats that come too close to him. But in my case, I’m assigned to the palace and that’s where I stay, regardless of the state of the war.”

With an inquisitive frown, D.O. asked, “How did Tao actually get to his post? He’s barely past the age of maturity.”

“Your age of maturity,” Chen corrected. “In M, the age of legal maturity is much older, twenty, in fact. However, if you enlist in the military, you can become a recognized adult as young as sixteen. Enlisting gives you certain, early rights as a citizen. And neither does our system take into account seniority for posts like captain of the guard. That position is always occupied by the person best suited for it. I mean the strongest, the most capable, and the most relentless. Tao replaced the old captain of the guard because of his unique ability, his dedication, and his fierceness. That’s all it takes, and that’s why the position remains strong. Only the strongest can inherit it.”

Suho mumbled, “Seems ripe for betrayal.”

Chen understood what he meant, even if the words hadn’t been so clear, and he told the Commander, “You would think that this sort of system would allow for less than loyal subjects to slip through the cracks, but those of us assigned to the palace guard are vetted intensely and frequently. The door is also always open for those in M, who feel unhappy with the current state of things, to go to K.”

That was something that had always made an impact on Chen, and more importantly his decision to defect from K to M. The king of M certainly exercised control over the country, but it was a control over the behavior of the citizens, not the citizens themselves. Chen had seen a few, though only rarely, citizens leave M for K. The fact that they could, spoke volumes to him. 

Chen said, “So, to go back to your original question, I haven’t been in K before this. And the three factions of M’s military are not as interwoven as you might imagine. Those of us at the palace don’t know much of what those at the war front are doing or seeing. The same can be said for the civil department of the military not understanding what goes on at the palace. I knew K was struggling during the war, but I didn’t know it was impoverished.”

“What did you expect?” D.O. wondered. “If your country was benefiting from the war, what did you think was happening to the other half of the war?”

At almost a mumble, Chen asked, “What about down in the south? By the coastline?”

D.O. paused, then said, “It’s the best at the capitol. But after that, the south had a chance of making it through the upcoming winter, if the war hadn’t been called off. The south coast’s citizens have always been able to rely more on the sea for their food, than the government.” Head cocked, D.O. asked, “Why?”

He couldn’t very well tell D.O. or Suho that his family was likely still in the south of K. They’d been there the last time Chen had seen them, his mother crying, his father angry, and his little sisters not understanding. His family wasn’t the type of move anywhere, or give up the parcel of land they’d worked hard to make their own. Chen suspected that if he made a detour down to the coastline he’d be able to find them exactly where they’d always been. And it comforted him to know they weren’t being starved to death by a needless war.

Maybe that was why he’d pushed to join the palace guard from the very start. Before the selection process had even started, he’d honed all of his skills, both with a sword and his ability, he made a show of his cleverness, his loyalty, and anything else that could be seen as an asset. He’d been half convinced from the start that they’d stick him on the frontlines of the war just to test his fortitude, given that he’d defected from K to M.

If Luhan, who’d known nothing about him at that moment, only that he’d come from K, hadn’t stuck his neck on the line vouching for him, he might have ended up anywhere but the palace. 

If he’d ended up fighting in the war, instead of guarding the royal family, he would have already run the risk of seeing his family. Troops from M had been making their way down the coast of K towards the south for a while, that was public knowledge. He wasn’t ashamed that he was a solider in M’s military. He wasn’t ashamed his loyalty was to the king. But he would be ashamed if he ever had to hurt his family for whatever reason in deference to his new country. He wasn’t sure he could do it. Not even for his king, and that scared him. It was something he could never admit to anyone.

“No reason,” Chen eased out, sinking into his seat. “It’s not important.”

Before they reached the capital, having been on the road for a much longer amount of time than Chen had imagined it would take, Suho told him, “For the first couple of days you’ll be required to make several public appearance swith me, enforcing the fact that M and K are now a united front. You’ll shake some hands, mumble some apologies, but for the most part you’re here just for show. You won’t be expected to do much, and after the people have had a few days to get used to seeing you, you and Baekhyun will have a chance to slip away and go check out those caves.”

“I don’t think a lot of people will want to shake hands with me,” Chen said dully. 

“Not the younger citizens,” Suho reasoned. “The younger generation, the one who’ve only grown up knowing war, are going to be angry for a long time about M and the war. But the older generation, our parent’s generation, they’ll remember a time when we weren’t trying to kill each other. They’ll accept you, and for the most part, they’re the only generation that matters right now. They’ll be proposing the candidates for the elections, they hold the majority of the land, and they’ll have the power in the emerging government. At least until they pass those positions and power onto their children in the future.”

He hadn’t missed that Suho said he’d have to make apologies. Before he left M, Luhan had warned him that he’d be spending a good deal of his time apologizing for something that wasn’t his fault. It was something he accepted, but it didn’t seem to make the words he was expected to say, taste any less sour.

When they arrived at the capitol, which was a full city looking more like Chen had expected than the barren, poverty stricken towns they’d passed through, they were greeted by a celebration already in progress.

Chen did his best to shake hands, keep to Suho’s side, and be as unrecognizable as possible. Of course that was hindered by his ceremonial uniform that he’d been required to wear. All the same, he made it into the actual building that was considered the hub of the capitol, without much fuss.

Quickly, as they walked down long hallways, D.O. explained, “The building is divided into two main areas. We work in the east wing. When we were at war, it was the central area for all of the information coming in and going out. It was a madhouse, for the most part. But the west wing, that’s where the higher ranked officers sleep. Commander Suho has quarters there, I do, and you’ll be put up there too.”

“If I’m the liaison from M to K, are you my personal liaison while I’m here?” It’d been something Chen was assuming almost from the start, given how D.O. had made Kai swap out his seat in the vehicle Chen had been assigned to, and D.O. hadn’t exactly left his side since they’d started out from the palace. D.O. had also been extremely attentive to his needs and questions.

“The Commander asked me to look after you,” D.O. said with a nod. “Probably just to make me feel useful. I’m a solider, Chen. It’s all I’ve ever known. But the war is over now, and I don’t have any other skills. If I wasn’t leading you around, I wouldn’t have much to do.”

Chen shrugged. There could have been a worse option. He could have been stuck with Kai, who seemed perpetually moody, or no escort at all. “Fair enough.”

He was delivered to a better room than he’d expected. It was a far cry from the room he slept in at the palace, but his new quarters were decent sized, with a nice looking bed, a communications terminal across the way, and it was fully furnished. Chen had been half expecting a cot and a lamp.

“Wow,” D.O. whistled out behind him. “This is nice.”

“Better than average?” Chen asked, laying his travel bag down on the bed. The carpet looked clean and new under his feet, and the walls were painted a comforting navy blue color. 

“Way better,” D.O. said. “I don’t even think the Commander’s room is this nice. It must be important to him that we make a good impression.”

“He’s nervous, I bet,” Chen said, gesturing for D.O. to come in the room and close the door behind him. “It’s the same kind of nervous that his majesty felt while all of you were in his care. It’s a nervous feeling of responsibility. The war just ended and we have the peace treaty signed and authenticated, but the tiniest spark could set things off again. I’m here representing the king and his consort, almost as if they were here themselves. If anything happens to me, it’s like something happening to either of them.”

D.O. seemed afraid to touch anything in the room, from the nearby table with a decorative potted plant atop it, to the framed art on the wall. If anything the room gave Chen perspective on his own living situation back in M, and the living conditions the rest of K had.

“That’s probably why the Commander said to stick to you like glue. Hey,” D.O. said, almost a little excited, “You control lightening, don’t you?”

Chen let his head dip. “And you’re …”

“Less impressive,” D.O. relayed, seemingly becoming a little more relaxed. “I can manipulate the ground under our feet. It’s not very useful.”

“Not yet,” Chen argued. “But give K some time to recover from the war. Eventually you’ll be incomprehensibly important to getting food production back up. You ever think about that?”

D.O. was staring hard. 

“What?” Chen asked, pausing. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

D.O. crossed his arms. “I’m staring because I didn’t see it at first, but I do now. Rather, I didn’t hear it until now.”

Slowly, Chen asked, “Hear what?”

“Your accent.”

Chen sat hard on the bed.

“Were you lying when you said you’d never been to K?” D.O. stalked forward. “Because you can hide a K accent pretty well when we’re speaking in the M dialect, but we’re using standard right now, and it’s very clear. So fess up.”

Was there some believable lie he could tell quickly? Was there some way to hide the truth?

“Chen?”

“D.O.,” Chen returned. “What are the chances I could get you to stop asking questions this very moment?”

“Little to none,” D.O. said honestly, switching from standard to K’s dialect. “Especially since you elongate your vowels once in a while, which is a clear sign that you’re from the south. People from the far south have been elongating their vowels since before K and M went to war. And you were asking about the south earlier. Fess up. Are you a secret double agent?”

At that, Chen couldn’t help laughing. He’d actually heard that theory posed more than a few times, by almost everyone who’d found out in his early days in M that he was from K. After which he’d gotten a lot better at hiding where he was from, and making up a new history for himself, but it seemed to be a prevailing theory. 

“I’m not,” Chen said honestly. “I’m officially an M citizen, I’m loyal to M and my king, and nothing will ever change that.”

“But?” D.O. prompted.

Chen sighed. “I was born in the south of Exo. When the war happened, I chose the side that I most believed in. That just happened to be M.”

“You’re from K originally,” D.O. said, sounding a bit dumbfounded.

“Technically I was born in a time when K and M were simply Exo united. I made my choice to go to M when the war was weeks old. I can say with confidence that I was a citizen of K for no longer than it took to travel from K to M.”

“Why?” D.O. took a seat in a nearby chair. “Why would you give up the freedom that K offers its people? K fought M so that we could have fair representation in the government, pick our own leader, and have autonomy. We fought for freedom from oppression.”

Chen said immediately, “What you call oppression, I call security. I don’t agree with everything that M’s monarchy chooses to do, but both the deceased king, and the new one, have always put the people first. Monarchy is the system of government that I personally believe works the best, and I’ve had years to affirm that. I don’t need to elect a ruler of my choice when the one that M currently has, has been groomed from birth to anticipate others needs before his own. His majesty will do what benefits his people socially, economically, and politically. The system of confidence in M doesn’t allow for anything else. As long as the ruler is just, I follow the ruler.”

D.O. offered, his hands up in the air, “I just don’t get it. Honestly.”

“Some men want to make their own way, to find their own purpose,” Chen said simply. “And some men believe that the way that is set for them is already filled with purpose.”

“And that’s enough for you?” D.O. wondered critically.

Chen replied, “I wouldn’t have dedicated my life to protecting M’s monarchy if I believed anything less.’

Tentatively, D.O. asked, “Do you want to see your family? Is that why you agreed to come here to K?”

“No.” Chen stood slowly from the bed and began to unpack his things. As a part of the palace’s elite guard, the one responsible for direct contact with the royal family, he’d had his own servant assigned to him for the better part of the day, almost from the start of his service. He’d never needed to unpack his own clothing before, but something told him that same help wouldn’t be offered in K. K’s economy wasn’t strong enough to support a domestic servant class just yet. At least not one that would be paid as well as the servants at the palace were. 

“Why not?”

His back to D.O., Chen found himself saying, “My parents are a lot like you, D.O.. They were dissatisfied with the lack of control in their lives when Exo was united. They wanted more freedom and more choice. They didn’t want monarchy, they wanted democracy. I respected that, but they had a hard time respecting that my choice was different from theirs. We didn’t part on the best of terms. I came here to K because my king asked me to, and because I want the peace as much as you do. I want to have kids some day, and I don’t want them to grow up like I did, fearing that they’ll have to kill or be killed over a difference of opinion.”

“You’re not going to see them at all?”

Chen forced a smile and told D.O., “I don’t. I was just a kid when I left. I was barely old enough to make the choice to leave. My sisters are all grown up now, my parents have probably forgotten me and had more children. It would be pointless.”

With a whistle D.O. got to his feet and walked to the door. “I don’t know. They’re your family. Even if you parted on bad terms, and even if it’s been a long time, they still might want to see you. I’d want to see my family after so long.”

“D.O.,” Chen called out, before he could leave. “I’d prefer to keep my origins from the others. For personal reasons.”

D.O. shrugged. “Okay. I’m going to go get changed. Commander Suho is scheduled to make a speech about his time spent in M and the peace treaty he signed. He’ll introduce you as his special guest and the foreign dignity you are so that hopefully you’ll be accepted, or at the least left alone. Baekhyun will likely come get you for that, but I’ll see you there.” He stopped, raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is there anything you need before I go?”

“I’m fine,” Chen assured, then jerked a thumb towards the communications terminal. “I can get through to M with that, right? I need to report in.”

“It’s encrypted and safe,” D.O. said, then slipped out of the room.

Chen didn’t waste any time pulling at his ceremonial uniform jacket, brushing off some of the dust he’d picked up on it from the journey. He’d probably be expected to wear it later that night when Suho gave his speech, so getting the dust out was a must. But quickly after that he turned on the terminal across the room and found a connection immediately to M.

As promised, Xiumin had been waiting for his call.

“How was the trip?” the older man asked. His cheeks were full and he looked especially happy, which probably meant Luhan wasn’t giving him too much trouble.

Chen found himself grinning at Xiumin. “I spent two days in a stuffy, small space with several people I’m not comfortable with, and spent a night sleeping against a window. How do you think the trip was?”

“You do seem cranky,” Xiumin laughed.

“How about you?” Chen returned. “You look less stressed than usual. Is Luhan behaving himself?”

Xiumin said, “Believe it or not, Sehun is having a calming influence on him.”

It wasn’t that Luhan had ever been hyper, or hard to handle, but he was headstrong, and often set in his ways. When he decided on a goal, there was very little that could be done to change his mind, and Chen had spent years watching Xiumin chase after Luhan, trying to get him to slow down, or take more precautions. 

With the recent development of the intensity in Luhan’s visions and dreams, things had been even more hectic. Luhan was determined to figure out what it all meant, even at the cost of his own health. For someone like Xiumin, who’s one and only priority was keeping Luhan safe, it was asking a lot.

“How so?”

Xiumin explained, “Luhan’s got consort duties now, which means placating people in the palace and more charity work, and helping his majesty handle the council. The week of mourning just ended for the previous king’s death, and Luhan can’t shut himself away in the palace anymore. Sehun is someone that Luhan can lean on in that way. He’s already introduced Sehun to the court, and he’s sharing his workload with him in a way. I think Sehun might even be distracting him from his visions, which is what we need more than anything.”

“You sure about that?” Chen asked. “The last thing I want is Luhan getting hurt, even with Lay there. But even I can’t deny that his visions give us the most information in the shortest amount of time.”

“It’s not worth it,” Xiumin said right away, almost angrily. “I’m not letting him have another vision if I can help it.”

The reality was Xiumin really couldn’t. Luhan had been able to trigger his visions in the past, but they did also happen all on their own. A vision wasn’t something Xiumin could stop or protect Luhan from. 

“I take it you’re not letting him touch what Sehun found, then.”

“Not a chance.”

Chen hadn’t been there, not when Sehun had been found and then quickly lost again. Instead Chen had been searching the entertainment district of the city that Luhan suspected Sehun might have disappeared to after being so infatuated with it the day before. 

But Chen had been present the second Sehun had practically popped out of the life tree, waving his hand down at them, something tucked safely into his fist. It was another twenty minutes before Sehun was safely back on the ground and he was able to explain that he’d fallen through some of Mama’s thinner bark, to a well hidden cavern deep in the life tree.

Bluntly, Chen told Xiumin, “Is it really what we thought it was?” When Xiumin nodded, Chen pressed, “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know, and neither does Luhan, but he’s been pressing to get his hands on it. He said he’s supposed to keep it safe, but I think that’s just a lie so I’ll hand it over.”

“And what does Sehun say?”

“That he was compelled,” Xiumin sighed out. “That he woke up in the morning and felt like he had to go to the life tree or that something terrible was going to happen. He climbed because he was supposed to. Because he had to save it.” Xiumin made a sour face. “It’s possible that Luhan is supposed to keep it in his custody, considering how he’s tied to Mama and her life tree, but he just got his health back. I don’t want to risk it. The idea of Mama compelling people to do things, really unsettles me, Chen.”

“If Luhan wants it, he’s going to go after it. Where are you keeping it?”

Xiumin leaned a little closer to the camera feed. “Under lock and key in the treasury. Hopefully Sehun can keep Luhan distracted enough that he won’t think about it too much.” A second later, Xiumin added, “Luhan does seem distracted in general.”

“Something is bothering him?”

“I don’t know,” Xiumin said. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m glad that Sehun got to stay at the last second over Chanyeol. Chanyeol seemed nice, but Sehnn’s different. He’s not military, and he and Luhan are developing a real friendship. That’s the kind of relationship that’ll make a difference in the end.”

Chen rested an elbow on the table in front of him. “Is that your way of kindly telling me to play nice and make friends?”

“You are nice,” Xiumin said right away. “But making friends wouldn’t hurt.”

“Make friends,” Chen repeated. “Sure.”

“It’s not forever,” Xiumin laughed out. “You’ll be back home before you realize it. At least as soon as K has their first party primaries . And then his majesty will send someone over who actually wants the post of liaison. Just grin and bear it until then, okay?”

Chen waved him off. “Okay, okay. Now please report to his majesty that I’m here, everyone is safe and that I’d really appreciate a care package of some soap if possible. Nice soap.” Chen looked around the room. “They made a big show of giving me a high end room, but I have a feeling that the basic amenities are going to be hard to come by until K gets back up on its feet.”

“You really want me to include that last part?”

Chen smiled. “Maybe the first part should go to his majesty, and the last to Luhan?”

“Got you,” Xiumin said, waving at Chen. “Call me again tomorrow. Same time. I’ll keep you updated on my end, you do the same on yours. And be careful. Not everyone there is going to be happy to see you. If anything happens to you while you’re there, the repercussions are going to be bad.”

Chen ended the call almost right after that, stretching his arms up and leaning back in his seat. He wasn’t happy to be back in K, but Xiumin was right. It wouldn’t be forever, and he needed to make the best of a bad situation.

There was a nice, clean looking bathroom attached to his room, with white towels hanging on racks near the shower, and a quick test of the water showed it was warm. That was something. It would be nice to change his clothing and scrub himself clean. It was hard to tell, but he didn’t think he smelled all that great. 

He was second from pulling off his shirt, the water running behind him, when a knock came to his door. Groaning in annoyance he made his way to it, opening it sharply. “Yes?”

Flatly, Suho said, “I’ve caught you at a bad time, obviously.”

Chen leaned a little on the door. “I was about to take a shower.”

Without preamble Suho said, “I wanted to check on you. How are you finding your accommodations?”

Chen said simply, “Come in,” then he left the main room to shut off his shower.

“I won’t keep you long,” Suho said when Chen returned to the main room.

“Look,” Chen said before Suho could manage anymore. “I know you’re under the assumption that I’m pampered. Commander, I won’t deny that my quarters at the palace are very nice. Likely nicer than anything you have to offer in K. But I don’t think myself privileged or expectant. All I need is a bed and I’m fine. This is more than enough. I’m here to work, and to help M and K however I can. The room I have isn’t my greatest concern.”

Suho gave wordless nod, clearly pleased.

“And,” Chen added, suddenly remembering a promise he’d made shortly before leaving, “now that I have you in private, I have something for you.” It was a quick few steps to his bag still on the bed, and from it he withdrew a square, perfectly white envelope. There was gold embellishment on it and a precise flourish of ink that could have only been possible after several years of practice. “I was asked to give you this the first chance I had you alone.”

“What is it?” Suho asked, reaching for it. “Any messages should be routed through my personal channel. It’s protected.”

“This is …” Chen broke off to admire the envelope one last time. Then he admonished, “It’s not just a message. This is tradition.”

“Tradition.” Suho turned the envelope over. “Wait.” Suho looked up sharply at Chen. “Is this a formal request for courtship?”

“I’m surprised,” Chen said honestly. “And you’ve just given some of your very mysterious past away. Only someone raised in the palace, or very near it, would be familiar with this tradition.”

Almost at a grumble, Suho admitted, “My parents worked in the palace for a good amount of my childhood. But I’ve only seen one of these in person. Only one.”

“This is from Lay,” Chen said almost gently. “He’s the head of his family, so it falls to him to make the request. He’s obviously found something in you that he likes, and so this is the result.”

Suddenly Suho was holding the envelope almost reverently. “I thought there might be something between us, but we’re not well matched.”

“No?” Chen asked. “Lay begs to differ. Look, if you’re interested, send a reply. If not, Lay will understand. He’s not one to hold a grudge, either, so you don’t have to worry about cooperating with him in an official capacity later on if things go sour. But just so you know, Lay is what you might consider a very eligible bachelor. He’s very well educated, powerful, handsome, kind, wealthy and he’s got the kind of temperament you’d want in a partner. I’ve seen Lay reject several offers for courtship over the years, and this is the first time I’ve seen him extend one. Anyone would consider themselves flattered.”

“This is his family crest?” Suho asked, flipping the envelope to the back. “It’s … surprisingly similar to my own.”

As Chen walked Suho to the door, he reminded, “Lay is my friend. You should keep that in mind, too. My very good friend. I don’t want to be known as the guy who single handedly restarted the war between K and M, Commander.”

Suho’s eyebrows rose. “Noted.”

Chen shrugged, “But as his friend as well, I think I see what he likes in you. You have a lot of admirable qualities, most importantly you’re honorable. Lay is someone who’s steeped in tradition, duty and honor. Those things mean a great deal to him. So maybe you think you’re ill matched, but I don’t share that sentiment.”

When Suho was gone Chen let himself lean back against the door. He didn’t exactly know what Lay thought he was doing, offering courtship to the Commander of K, but at the very least it would be a good show. 

And as he stepped into the shower, dipping his head under the spray to let the warmth rush over him, he never felt more firm in his earlier words to Suho about his accommodations. Luxury wasn’t a concern of his. It didn’t matter if he had a fully furnished room to sleep in. He didn’t plan to be in K long enough to want for anything like that. He was perfectly fine as he was, tiny bathroom in all.

At least until the water ran cold less than five minutes later.


	16. Tao

Making his way through the royal family’s personal wing of the palace, dressed down from his usual uniform and already in a foul mood, Tao felt the eyes on him before he actually saw anyone. The unnerving feeling of being watched, his instincts honed to pick up such a thing, Tao slowed his paces, trying to pinpoint who might be watching him. And from where.

The problem was, the royal family’s residence was filled with endless secret passageways. False doors, sliding walls and underground escape routes numbered in the dozens and the only people who should have known about any of them, with any sort of familiarity, should have been the king, his husband, Tao, and likely Xiumin. Possible Lay or Chen as well. With there always being a chance that those escape passages could be the difference between life and death, if the palace were compromised, it wasn’t safe to have anyone else know.

Tao knew that currently the king was busy arguing with his council, listening to their petty squabbling, probably trying to convince those bigoted old men to send aid to K. And Xiumin was actually away from the palace for the rest of the morning to visit his parents. That only left …

“Psst. Tao.”

Tao stopped completely. “Your majesty,” he said a little flatly, following the voice to a narrow looking hallway that Luhan was sliding out of. His face was a little flushed and his eyes looked apprehensive, which told Tao everything he needed to know right away. “Are you hiding?”

“Hiding,” Luhan said dismissively. “That’s not the word I’d like you to use. I’m … selectively choosing my company at the moment.”

Tao asked, “From Sehun? Tire of him already?”

“Oh, no.” A smile broke across Luhan’s face, making him look even more radiant. “I’d never ditch Sehun. He’s really very fun to be around. Actually, he’s still sleeping. He was up late last night with me planning our trip to the archive. I think he deserves to sleep in. I’ll send for him later, when lunch is served.”

“Then,” Tao concluded, “you’re running from your personal court.”

Luhan made a face. “Got it in one. Tao,” he said, a bit of a whine in his voice, “they want me to start picking things for the wedding. I don’t care about that. It’s boring. I don’t care what I wear or what kind of flowers there are, or anything. I don’t care. I can’t say that enough.”

The wedding. Tao tried not to let his true feelings on the matter show in the least bit. But the truth of the matter was that Luhan and the king had been married for close to a week now. However a private, almost desperate ceremony wasn’t going to appease the people, and so now almost everyone at the palace was caught up in wedding fever for the public event that would be held shortly.

“Have you made any progress?” Tao asked, reminding himself that Luhan was just as much a victim of circumstance as he himself was. Luhan hadn’t asked to be married to the king, and Tao knew personally that he was only making the best of an upsetting situation. 

Luhan offered, “We settled on a date. Three weeks from now. More like twenty days, to coincide with the week of rest. The hope is that when the people take their customary rest from work during that week, they’ll spend their time preoccupied by the wedding and they’ll happily boost the economy with their celebration purchases. Everyone loves a wedding, right?”

The last sentence had been said with such distain that Tao was a little taken aback.

Giving Luhan a low bow, Tao said, “You’re the second most powerful person in M right now. If you don’t want to plan the wedding, and his majesty is too busy to do it, delegate the task to someone you trust. I know Lay’s been looking for something to occupy his time. Now, I’m on my way to meet--”

“Kai!” Luhan interrupted, his voice peeking. “I know. You’re going to see Kai. He’s going to teleport the both of you to the Forbidden City.”

Tao grit his teeth. “Right.”

“Tao,” Luhan said, his voice going soft. “Please be patient wit him.”

Immediately Tao returned, “I’m not planning to foster a friendship, your majesty. We’re going for work related purposes. I can be professional, as I assume he can.”

“I know you’ve fought before,” Luhan offered.

“We tried to kill each other,” Tao clarified. “It won’t interfere with what we’re going to the Forbidden City for.”

Luhan moved quickly to cut round Tao and stand fully in front of him. “Please try for patience. You’re going somewhere that is potentially very dangerous. I know that you can act in a professional matter, but Kai … he can be distracted easily. His resentment for you, over numerous things, might be a problem if you let it.”

A little immature, Tao’s own resentment slipping through, he told Luhan, “I should have expected this. Why wouldn’t you be the first to defend someone you care so much for? Someone you love. Someone you’ve given yourself to.”

Luhan’s features darkened right away and he said, “I care very much about you Tao. You’re family as far as I’m concerned, and Kris … he … well, I know how he feels about you. So I will forgive you without so much as a second thought, but don’t ever say anything like that again. If you were overheard … Tao …”

Tao suddenly felt flushed with guilt and shame. He was openly accusing Luhan of adultery, even if it had occurred before he’d been married to the king. If anyone untrustworthy were to find something like that out, it could be enough to have the marriage dissolved, and who knew then what would happen. Luhan could even be imprisoned, or worse. The king’s hands would be tired in that situation. And if such a thing happened to Luhan, it would kill the king. Tao would lose the both of them.

“I’m sorry,” Tao said, dropping to a knee. “I’m so sorry.”

Luhan placed a gentle hand on Tao’s shoulder. “I know you hate me.”

“Hate?” Tao looked sharply up at him. “I would never hate you. I couldn’t.”

Luhan forced a smile. “I ended up married to the person that you love with all of your heart. And I don’t even have the decency to offer him my heart in return.”

Voice quiet like a whisper, Tao rose and told Luhan, “You can’t give a heart that’s already been entrusted to someone else. And I don’t hate you, your majesty. I hate the … the situation. I hate what we’ve all become--jaded about love, angry and jealous of each other.”

“I want you to know,” Luhan told Tao, “I’ve already spoken to Kris about our situation. I don’t have the opportunity to be with the one I love, but that may not be the case for him. He can be discreet, and despite the fact that we are sleeping together at the moment, I do have my own private chambers. The king’s queen or consort is only expected to sleep in his room for a short while. It wouldn’t be unusual for me to move back to my own space. Especially if I had a reason to.”

His heart thumping in his chest almost painfully, Tao had to force himself to shake his head. “I don’t think that’s an option.”

“It can be, if you want it to be.”

“And the king’s position is on this?”

“Too noble,” Luhan said definitively. “But he listens to you. He takes you into consideration. Speak with him about this, then think about it. Someone deserves to be happy, and if I can’t be me, it might as well be someone I love.”

Tao wasn’t sure what he could say to that. The last thing he wanted to make the king was an adulterer, but the opportunity to be with the one he loved was a breathtaking proposition. 

“Actually,” Luhan said, breaking through Tao’s thoughts, “I’m not just ducking out of my wedding duties. I came to ask you a favor.”

“I really am cutting it short on time,” Tao said, remembering quite clearly the last time Luhan had asked him of a favor. It rarely happened, but when it did, these favors were no small matter. And they almost always got him, or someone else, into trouble. “A favor.”

“Just one thingy thing!” Luhan pressed his hands together in a begging motion. “I just want to see it, Tao.”

“No.” Tao straightened right away, his mood completely different. “Absolutely not, and you know you’re only trying this with me because if Xiumin were here he’d have shut you down ages ago.”

“Why not?” Luhan demanded. “I want to see it, and you know as well as I do that I need you to get past the guards in the treasury. You and I know other than Kris, you’re my only chance.”

“You’re barred from it for a reason,” Tao argued back. And if he so much as considered indulging Luhan he’d be in for it. The king’s explicit orders were to keep Luhan as far away from what Sehun had brought down fro the life tree as possible. No exceptions. “Stop trying to use me to bypass your king’s orders.”

“He’s afraid I’ll touch it.” Luhan put his hands on his hips. “I said I want to see it, not touch it. And you’ll be there to make sure I don’t. Deal?”

Tao started walking again immediately. “No deal.”

“Tao!” Luhan chased after him, then kept an even pace with him easily. “I have to. Mama sent Sehun the compulsion to go get what she knew I couldn’t. It’s meant to be in my custody, and I have to see it. Just to check on it. I have to know it’s safe.”

Tao said, “It’s safe. There are half a dozen guards in the room. Nothing is going to happen to it.”

“You don’t understand,” Luhan said, sounding frustrated. “ I have to. It’s starting to drive me crazy, and I don’t know how much longer I can control myself and not go down there, cause trouble for Kris, and make a scene. I have to see it, Tao.” Then Luhan was tugging on his arm, more like a boy than a man.

Luhan’s gesture of casualness, familiarity and genuine gentleness was something that reminded Tao of the previous queen. Of Kris’ mother. She hadn’t been the type of queen that Tao had been raised to expect. She’d been warm and friendly and a kind soul. She’d never acted like her position made her better than anyone else, and Luhan had many of her qualities. Maybe that was why Kris had always loved him so unconditionally, almost right from the start. 

“You could just do that,” Tao pointed out. “You know you’re more than strong enough to push your way into that room. Why get me to bypass the security for you?”

Luhan blinked a bit owlishly at Tao, then said, “Because my husband personally asked you not to let me take any risks because he’s worried. I don’t want to ignore his request or disrespect his authority, but I really have to see it Tao. It’s a need in me that’s getting worse with every second. Plus, what you’re going to do now is very important, and me getting past the guards, causing disturbance, and getting you called over anyway will delay your trip significantly.”

“Your majesty,” Tao groaned out. “This is going to get back to the king.” Luhan was just so good at wearing people down and getting them to do what he wanted. He was practically an expert by now. And Tao was fading fast against his charms.

“I only need five minutes,” Luhan promised. “Less than that, even. I just need a quick look. Can you give me those five minutes?”

“Are you really going to go anyway if I don’t escort you?”

Luhan gave a shrug. “Maybe. It’s hard to tell. The pull is getting stronger.”

That worried Tao. Any kind of physical reaction that Luhan was having right now would pale in comparison to the kind he could have if he got any closer. But keeping him away seemed to be causing him actual discomfort, and Tao was sworn against letting that happen. Which would the king see as more important?

Tao sighed. “I’m going to lose my post for this.”

Luhan gave a squeak of happiness and Tao couldn’t bring himself to regret his change of heart too much.

A few minutes later, with Tao feeling even more anxious, he was escorting Luhan past the posted guards, and into the room where the royal family kept their most valuable possessions. It was only the second time Tao had ever been in the huge room, and even though Luhan looked comfortable, striding forward with ease, Tao was not.

“Oh,” Luhan said, jerking to a stop early. 

“What is it?” A few more steps and Tao could see that Luhan had paused in front of the display case that housed the crown he’d wear when he was publicly married to the king. Next to it was the king’s, but Tao could tell Luhan only had eyes for the smaller crown. “This can’t be the first time you’ve seen it,” Tao said.

“It is,” Luhan said, inching closer. “I guess I could have before now, but I didn’t want to … make it real, I guess.”

Strangely enough, Tao understood what he meant.

“Come on.” Tao nudged him. “I’m only giving you a couple of minutes and you’re wasting them.”

Almost at a run Luhan made his way, Tao following diligently, to the very back of the chamber. And there, protected by clear glass, was the single item that Sehun had risked his life to retrieve.

“I still don’t get the fuss,” Tao said, bending forward to better see the tiny object. “It’s just a seed.”

It really was, no matter the fuss Luhan was making over it. It was a tiny seed, no bigger than Tao’s thumb, brown in color, and absolutely ordinary in every way. Only it was something Sehun had been willing to risk dying in order to retrieve, and it was something that now looked like had mesmerized Luhan in some way.

Luhan put a pale hand against the glass. “You can’t feel it, can you?”

“No,” Tao said dully. The only thing he could feel was his career slipping away from him. It was almost certain that one of the guards posted outside had gone to inform the king. He was captain of the guard, but even his own men would betray him if they thought he was acting in a capacity that risked the royal family in some way. 

“It’s incredible. Take my word for it.” Luhan almost looked on the verge of tears.

“It’s a seed.”

Luhan shook his head. “It’s not important what it is now. What’s important is what it’ll be.”

“And that is?” Tao asked.

A brilliant look on his face, Luhan assured him, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Tao said, “Try me.”

“No,” Luhan insisted, visibly breathing easier. “You really wouldn’t.”

It was almost a miracle that less than ten minutes later Luhan was delivered safely to his wedding planning session, and Tao was face to face with Kai.

Or rather, Tao was coming around a corner, heading towards their designated meeting spot, when he saw Kai. And Kai wasn’t alone. It wasn’t odd at all that Kai and Lay were standing near each other, as the king had likely passed on some parting words for Kai to Lay. Lay had the ear and confidence of both the king and Luhan like no one else. But it was still weird to see someone like Lay, anywhere near someone like Kai.

He was there just in time to hear Kai saying, “--looked kind of weepy, actually, when he gave this to me. It’s not a look he wears well or often. And I thought, hey, maybe he wants me to give it to you to pass along to Luhan or the king, but then he was very clear. I was only supposed to give this to you and no one else. On pain of death, apparently. I don’t even know what it is.”

Kai was holding out an envelope of some sort to Lay.

“Thank you,” Lay said, accepting the envelope with a slightly shaking hand. There was a look on his face, part hopefully, part almost giddy, and Tao was sad to say he hadn’t seen Lay look so excited in a long time. “Very much.”

“And,” Kai continued, releasing his grip on the envelop and taking a respectable step back, “I’m not supposed to come back to K without your reply. The Commander was very clear about that part, too. If I come back without it, I’ll be risking my life. So as soon as I get back from the Forbidden City, I’ll stop by your rooms for it. Okay?”

Lay slid the envelope into his vest expertly and agreed, “I’ll have my reply ready for you at that time.”

Kai frowned a little and confided, “The Commander was very clear that I’m not supposed to pry into this at all, and if I tell anyone that I’m helping you two pass notes with my ability that I’ll be scrubbing toilets like a new recruit for the next ten years. But I can’t help being a little curious. I mean, why not just send each other messages on your tablets? It’s way faster, no matter how fast I am.”

“This,” Lay said, tapping his chest where the envelope was expertly hidden, “is something requiring at bit of propriety. I doubt you would be as interested in it if you actually knew what it was.”

“Huh.” 

After that Lay’s eyes darted over to Tao and he knew he’d been made.

“You’re late,” Lay said simply.

“Ah,” Tao eased out. “His majesty needed me for something. It was important to him. I’m sorry for holding you up.”

“Luhan?” Kai asked, an edge to his voice. 

Tao ignored him completely as Lay said simply, “Kai couldn’t very well go without you. That would derail the point of us joining forces for this.”

Snorting a little, Kai assured, “I could go without him. I’ve thought about it.”

Tao took a moment to steady his nerves. Luhan had asked as a personal favor for him to keep his wits and maintain his patience. And though Tao doubted Kai and Luhan were having any sort of physical contact with each other at the moment, they were likely at least speaking to each other. Luhan would know if Tao didn’t keep his word.

“And how,” Tao asked, “would you explain that? Grow up. You’re an adult, start acting like one. I don’t want to be paired up with you any more than you do with me, but these are the hands we’re dealt.”

Lay cleared his throat and held up a electronic tablet for the both of them to see. He slid his finger across the screen until he stopped on a photo that was of a surprisingly high resolution. It was in brilliant color, and an almost too artsy shot of one particular building. The mosaic type art lining the visible walls of the building denoted its importance, along with the man sized replica of Mama’s life tree in front.

“As you both know,” Lay informed them, “the Forbidden City is … well, forbidden. We don’t go there out of respect for the mistakes our past generations made, and because it isn’t safe.”

Kai cut in sharply, “The whole continent isn’t safe. It’s a radioactive wasteland. Proof that when we get stupid as people, we really take it to a whole different level. Like half the planet is now a wasteland, level.”

Tao thought Kai knew all about stupid, considering he’d involved with the man who’d been promised to the current king since childhood. 

Lay agreed, “It’s true that we’ve all been taught since birth to never go near the Forbidden City--the capital city of what used to be Exo. We were told the water, air and land are all poisoned, and that nothing can survive, including people. And yes, the land won’t hold a crop, and the water isn’t safe to drink, but the air is another story.”

Kai tapped his foot and pondered, “Why do I think you’re about to tell me something very few people know about?” Tao wanted to second that, but he couldn’t’ bring himself to show any kind of solidarity with Kai. 

“I think it’s safe to say that K hasn’t had a resources as of late to venture anywhere near the Forbidden City, but M is another story. Before his majesty’s father died, he was looking into the viability of the area. He discovered, surprisingly enough, that the air is breathable again. And at least speaking short term, it’s perfectly safe to be there.”

Tao’s eyes narrowed. “How short term are we talking?”

“About a hour,” Lay said. “A little longer at the most. That’s the average time reported before nausea begins to set in, followed by headaches, vomiting, and likely death.”

Kai said, “I’m getting more excited by the second.”

“So what’s this a picture of?” Tao asked, pointing at the tablet.

Lay pushed the tablet closer to Tao before showing Kai. “This is as far inland as our exploration teams have ever managed to get before needing a quick extraction. This is one of Mama’s first temples, and it’s estimated to be around fifteen minutes by foot from the last known location of the main archive building. If you use it for reference, and walk fast, you could have up to fifty minutes, maybe even an hour, before you have to leave. That’s enough time to search for references to any of the information Luhan and Baekhyun have given us.”

Tao wondered, “Why don’t we just grab what we can within the time frame an bring it back here?”

Lay shook his head. “Everything, and I mean everything, in the area is radioactive. Touch only what you must, and use the protective gear you’re taking with you. Do not, under any circumstances, bring anything back with you. You’ll risk spreading that radiation if you do.”

Kai squinted at the picture. “This is the best shot you have of the building?”

Lay nodded. “You can teleport to locations based on a picture if you have a strong enough reference point, right? This statue of Mama’s life tree might be that.”

“I can,” Kai admitted, “but it’s a little more dangerous. And to be honest, my teleporting is still a little off since the accident. It takes more effort and energy than before. I don’t want to end up in a thousand tiny pieces, and I don’t think Luhan would appreciate me doing the same for Tao.”

Tao snorted, “You should worry less about Luhan. He’s not your concern now, and he never should have been.”

“How about you worry about yourself and not Luhan and I,” Kai shot back. “My point here is that I don’t want to hurt either of us on the way there, get stuck, and then get sick and die. I take it no rescue team will be coming for us if that happens.” 

“We’re not going be there long enough to get sick.” Tao felt his promise to Luhan slipping away. “Or were you planning on ditching me at the last second and telling everyone that you did everything you could?”

Loudly, Lay cleared his throat and requested, “Can the both of you please focus? Or is it asking too much for either of you to act your age?”

Tao gave an annoyed grunt. Of all the people he could be teamed up with, Kai was likely the worst.

“Can you get yourself and Tao here?” Lay asked, focusing in on Kai. “Without leaving any body parts behind?”

“I’ve never left anything behind before,” Kai said stubbornly

Only he had. How was Tao supposed to ignore the fact that the second Kai’s ability had been tested in a moment of panic, he’d lost Luhan? He’d left Luhan behind. And not just that, he’d put Luhan in the kind of danger that Tao couldn’t even begin to think about. By all rights Luhan shouldn’t have even come back to them, not with how dangerous K had been to someone of his position, during the war.

Maybe that was ultimately what was grating under Tao’s skin. Luhan seemed to think that Tao hated him, or blamed him in some way for the situation with the king, and yes, Tao was angry. But Tao loved Luhan very much, and if anything happened to Luhan, Tao couldn’t see himself recovering. They were more than friends now. They were brothers.

Finally, Kai said, “I can get us there. All body parts included.”

With that decided, there was only one last thing to do, and it most certainly did not involve Kai. Tao planned to keep Kai away from Luhan as much as possible, no matter what Luhan’s feelings for the man were. Luhan would be better off without him, especially once those feelings started to dull down.

“Keep an eye on Luhan while I’m gone,” Tao said quietly to Lay while Kai studied the data screen. 

Immediately Lay’s posture changed. “Is something wrong? Or are you just being overprotective like his majesty?”

Tao said, “If I was just being overprotective I’d enlist Xiumin. No. I want you to watch his behavior. Make sure he’s not doing anything … out of the ordinary.”

“Tao?”

Tao sighed. “He’s feeling compulsions, I think. Like when Sehun climbed the life tree. Only it’s got to be worse for him because you know his connection to Mama. Watch him. Follow him around if you have to. Just don’t let anything happen to him.”

“This has to do with the seed, doesn’t it?” Lay posed. “Luhan was very fixated on it when Sehun brought it down, and he wasn’t happy when we wouldn’t let him hold it. Neither was Sehun, for that matter. They’re both under the impression that it needs to be protected by Luhan, which makes no sense at all.”

“So you’ll watch him?” Tao asked, looking over to Kai as he started to become restless. “I can’t be here and Xiumin is with his family. This falls on you with Chen gone and his majesty occupied.”

Calmly, Lay assured him, “I won’t let anything happen while you’re gone. But you need to focus on your task at hand. You have to bring back something--anything useful. We need more information. Tomorrow Luhan and I are going to search through the palace archives.”

Tao gave him a rare thumbs up. “I have this.”

With a smile, Lay added, “Don’t let Kai get to you. And for all our sakes, don’t skewer him at any point. Imagine trying to explain that to Suho.”

Tao found himself returning the smile. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not even bringing my sword.” Tao paused, then questioned, “Did you just … call him Suho?”

Lay’s eyes quickly adverted to the floor. “It’s proper to call him by his first name now, and not his title. We are courting.” 

Tao felt a little dumbfounded, but the smile on his face only grew. “Okay.” In many ways, the ones that counted the most, Lay was like a brother as well. And while Tao might have wanted him to choose a partner more befitting of his station, or at least someone in M, Tao couldn’t deny how big of an issue Lay actually courting someone was. 

“Ready?” Kai asked.

It was an awkward thing, placing his hand on Kai’s shoulder for teleportation, but it was better than holding his hand, or something equally as bad. And then, as Lay gave them both a short wave, they were blinking out of existence.

To Tao, it didn’t feel like much. Just a quick pull below his chest, sort of like sitting down too fast, and then suddenly they were standing in the partial ruins of what had been Exo’s most advanced, populated and beautiful city.

“Okay,” Kai said slowly, eyes taking in the scenery. “This is pretty amazing.”

Tao gave his own silent nod. The Forbidden City was located almost completely on the other side of Exo Planet, which meant it was nearly sunset in the ruins. But there was more than enough light to illuminate the once beautiful architecture, and the picture of what had been the height of Exo’s culture. 

Before everyone had started dropping bombs on each other and reduced the planet’s population to the mere thousands for a time, Exo’s now Forbidden City had been glorious in its perfection. From art to medicine, Exo had been a wealth of advancement. Though some M historians were still baffled by how their race had persevered after the collapse and managed to survive. In a radioactive wasteland, a few thousand survivors had beat the odds.

Kai said, “I think I see what used to be the capital’s archival building. It’s got the faded blue trim, right? Used to be their university and library all wrapped up into one. We should hurry, we probably have less than an hour.”

Tao went to take a step after him when he was suddenly doubling over, almost like he’d had a the wind knocked right out of him.

“Hurry up!” Kai called back to him impatiently.

Tao tried again, this time only attempting to edge his foot forward, but once more the feeling pounded into him, threatening to bring him down to his knees. He felt almost violently sick, to the point that he wondered if Lay had been wrong, and they had to get out of there right away.

But Kai was still walking on, not looking back for him, and Kai was perfectly fine. There was no way he could fake what Tao was feeling, if it was the same with him.

Instead, Tao leaned towards the building they’d identified as a temple. Back when Mama had been the dominate focus of nearly every citizen’s life. Tao was close enough to the statue of her life tree to lean on it, and every bit closer he got to the temple, the feeling of illness began to recede. 

He was, ultimately, being pulled towards the temple.

Was this what Sehun had felt in regards to the seed?

In any case, no matter the reason, Tao was stumbling his way up the steps to the temple just second later.

The inside was huge. Once he made his way through the crumbling door frame, and stepped carefully over the broken pieces of the floor, he emerged into a great empty space with a high ceiling. There was a thickness to the air, and a sense that the temple had been something magnificent once.

“Hey!” Angrily Kai came storming into the temple, demanded, “We’re supposed to be going to the archive. You’re wasting time and risking our lives.”

“No,” Tao said, following the feeling in his gut to the center of the room. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” Then he knelt, and with his hand, he began to brush away the debris littering the floor. It only took a little work to reveal the tiled mosaic on the floor.

“What?”

“This is where I’m supposed to be,” Tao repeated, uncovering more of the art, including some of the symbols they’d found in the book, the very symbols that appeared on their skin when they touched the text. “And this proves it.”

He found his symbol quickly, the tile it was painted on faded and cracked a little on the edge, but still recognizable. Kai’s wasn’t far away. On instinct alone he was pushing down on the tiles, and then both he and Kai were falling.

Of course the floor was rotted through. It had been hundreds and hundreds of years since any kind of real weight had been put down on it.

“What just happened?” Kai asked in pitch darkness.

One second they’d been falling and then the next they were standing perfectly upright in a space with pure air to breathe and no light to see in. There’d actually been no real fall, only a sudden sense of vertigo. Now there was disorientation. 

“I don’t know,” Tao said.

A clicking resonated around them and then lights were coming on around them. Light from no source. Natural light and not the artificial kind.

“I am really freaked out,” Kai said honestly. “Where are we?”

Tao looked down suddenly, feeling grass beneath his toes. His boots were gone, along with his socks, and after a moment more he realized that his clothing was completely different. His traveling clothes, the ones he’d picked specifically for the mission, were replaced by white leggings and an equally white tunic type top. His feet were bare and he was sanding on a green--too green grassy patch of earth.

They weren’t in a temple anymore. They were outside, in a valley of some sort, the sun gone and the stars sparkling above them with Exo’s twin moons lighting the area around them brighter than Tao had ever seen before. The trickling of water nearby was traced to a slow flowing river and bunches of flowers were grouped together in vivid and beautiful colors. This was no where Tao had ever been before.

“Tao.” Kai moved quickly to his side, dressed in new clothes as well, though unlike Tao’s they were a dark blue, almost midnight color. “Did I hit my head? Am I dreaming this?”

“Unlikely,” Tao bit out, looking down again at his feet to wiggle his toes. Maybe he’d been the one to hit his head on the fall and Kai was just the hallucination. But that wouldn’t explain how he could feel the breeze on his skin or the tickle from the blades of grass across is sensitive skin. “And I have no idea where we are or how we got here. It’s defying all explanation.”

Making them both jump a little, a soft, feminine voice asked, “Where is the Oracle?”

Tao spun, reaching instinctively for the sword at his waist that he kept typically to his side in almost all instances. He’d had to take it off before teleporting with Kai, however, and it was back at the palace. But where was the palace?

“Who are you?” Kai demanded, beating Tao to the punch.

The voice belonged to a child. At least it looked like a child. Standing a few dozen feet away, in a pale yellow dress, was a young girl. Dark brown hair curled at her shoulders and she had an apprehensive look on her face.

She repeated, “Where is the Oracle?”

Taking command of the situation, Tao moved towards her, indicating, “My name is Tao. I’m a representative of his majesty, King Kris. We don’t know who this Oracle is that you’re asking for. We aren’t even sure how we got here, or what here is. Can you tell us your name?”

“Where is the Oracle?”

“Listen,” Kai snapped, voice raising, “We don’t know an oracle. Who are you?”

The girls eyes narrowed. “I will speak only to the Oracle.”

“This is crazy,” Kai said, throwing his hands up. He stalked over to the nearby river and knelt by it. “Tao, the Forbidden City didn’t have any naturally occurring water sources. And it wouldn’t have any now with water this clean. Where ever we are, we’re a long way away.”

“It was sunset when we left,” Tao said, going to his side. He bravely dipped his fingers into the water and then brought them up to his nose. The water didn’t have a smell and he knew for a fact that polluted water did. “Look up at the position of the moons. It’s got to be much later than that, based where they are in the sky.”

Tiny bare feet settled next to Tao. “Keeper, where is the Oracle?”

“Keeper?” Tao stood. He was at least a head and a half taller than her. Maybe more. “Is that what you just called me?”

“Keeper of what?” Kai asked, head poking around Tao to question the girl. 

Almost tiredly, the girl said to Kai, “Of time, Keeper.”

Confusion filled Kai’s face. “I thought he was the Keeper.”

Tao worked out, “Maybe we both are. My ability is time manipulation. Yours is manipulating distance, at least to a degree. We both keep these abilities.”

“Then who’s this Oracle?” Kai questioned.

“The Oracle,” Tao eased out, more tentative than anything else, “isn’t here right now.”

“I know that, Keeper,“ she said, almost like he was stupid. “Why not? You should not have come without the Oracle. The Oracle guides. He balances. He protects. You are not safe here without him.”

“We don’t even know why we’re here,” Tao returned. “Or what here is.” Then he was distracted. The twin moons were lighting everything up, casting shadows, and Tao could see his own creeping across Kai’s form. Kai’s was easily spotted, too. But the girl? She had no shadow. “What are you?”

Then, sending a chill through his body, Kai asked, voice shaking, “Mama?”

The girl giggled and Tao had to sit down suddenly. Hard.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Kai asked, darting forward. 

Her cheeks dimpled as she told Kai, “I am what you need me to be.”

Almost pleading, Kai said, “No more riddles.”

“Luhan?” Tao ventured, “Is he the Oracle?” When Kai turned sharply to Tao, he reasoned, “Out of all of us, all of these supposed guardians, Luhan is the only one with the direct connection to Mama. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are sensitive to her, but Luhan is dangerously in tune with Mama.”

“Where is the Oracle?”

“Safe,” Tao said, getting his feet back under him. “And it may not be safe for him to travel. He can’t come here. That’s for sure.” If they ever knew where here was. 

“I must speak with him. Where is the Oracle?”

“You communicate with him all the time,” Kai said, anger lacing his words. “You hurt him.”

The girl’s eyes flickered to Kai. “Calm yourself, Keeper. I am trying to save him. I am trying to save all my children.” 

“Where are we?” Tao asked, determined to get a straight answer. “And why do you look like that?”

The girl’s head tipped back and she stretched her arms up to the stars, fingers straining. It was hard for Tao to think of this girl as Mama, or even some interpretation of her. 

“This is,” she said, eyes closed, “nothing you might understand. The Oracle would, however. He would guide you, were he here. Away from the danger.”

“We were safe where we were,” Tao argued. “At least for a little, and at least we knew where we were. Why are we here now.”

“You were not,” she said so firmly that the ground rumbled a bit under them. “My children had poisoned the world around you. You were not safe. You remain unsafe.”

Kai frowned hard at the sky and posed to Tao, “You don’t think … maybe we’re not awake right now?”

Tao glared at him. “You think we’re experiencing some … shared vision? The kind that Luhan often has?”

Kai pointed out, “Mama did say, if Luhan were here, he’d know what was going on. He’d understand. He’s the only one who understands visions to begin with. Do you think there’s a chance? Because take a closer look at the sky.”

There was no answer for Tao to give. He couldn’t be sure about anything. But even he had to admit it was possible. There were too many unexplained things. And looking up at the night sky more carefully revealed that the twin moons above them were not, in fact, moons. Instead what he’d dismissively assumed to be two moons were clearly something much different. 

“One of those is a planet,” Tao said, pointing upwards, specifically at the bigger of the two objects in the sky, big and blue and beautiful with a smaller, white moon orbiting it. “But is it one of ours?” They had several planets in their solar system, but they knew so little about them. Were they even looking up at their own night sky?

Mama gave a soft smile at the planet in question. 

“Mama?” Kai asked. 

“Bring me the Oracle.”

“I don’t--” Tao started. “It wouldn’t be safe for him. Even you can recognize that, right?”

“I must speak with him. He will be safe with me.”

“Tao,” Kai said, nudging him a little, “you can’t honestly be considering this. I don’t care if she is Mama. Luhan can’t--”

They were both thrown violently off their feet as the ground started to tremble. There was no gradual increase, only a crazy, frantic shaking that was violent from the start.

“What’s going on?” Tao demanded, clenching his teeth. The sky was falling. The stars were falling and the sky was blacking out.

The form of the girl spun on them, shouting, “You must leave now. Wake up.” 

Then they were hurdling away, flipping end over end, arms flailing, minds whirling …

Only to slam into awareness with a violent lurch of nausea and disorientation. A half second more and Tao realized the ceiling of the temple building they must have been in all along was coming down around them. They had precious seconds before they were buried alive.

“Tao!” Kai yelled for him, reaching out to try and grab his hand. “Tao!”

“Kai!” It mattered less and less with each passing desperate second that Kai had once been an enemy, and was nothing more than a convenient ally. 

Their fingers just barely brushed, but it seemed to be enough, and almost right away Tao could feel that pull rushing through him.

The sounds of yelling and screaming were roaring through Tao’s ears as he hit something solid and very hard. He bounced off it, rolled to the ground and choked out a groan of pain. Then, thankfully, he was blissfully still.

“What in the hell is going on?” Commander Suho’s voice demanded.

Tao cracked his eyes open to see several faces above him, looking down. He easily made out Commander Suho, and Chanyeol, and then surprisingly Chen who gave him a worried look.

“How did you end up here?” Chen asked, pulling him up with a strong grip. A look around told Tao that he was in some command centre. Maybe what had served as K’s war room during the actual war. He was certainly in K.

Next to him Kai rolled over to his stomach and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Head hanging low he tried to shake his sense back into himself. 

“Explain,” Suho demanded. 

“Something,” Kai breathed out, “really crazy just happened. Something impossible made possible.”

“What?” Suho demanded at the gibberish. “Did you hit your head on something?”

Tao added, “You have no idea.” He took a long, shuddering breath. “Commander Suho, please get M on the line immediately. I need to speak to his majesty Luhan, and Baekhyun for that matter.”

While Tao tried to steady the heavy thumping of his heart, he heard Suho ask Kai, “Why are you making that face at me?”

Kai grimaced and managed to lean back on his knees, going upright. “Sorry, Commander. I forgot to get that reply.”

Commander Suho looked as annoyed as Tao felt. That, and exhausted.


	17. Lay

“Get out of the way now!”

Lay slammed hard into the solid, painfully armored body of a nearby guard, bounced off and continued running. His chest was burning from how hard he was trying to breathe and his legs were aching from the run. He’d come from nearly the other side of the palace, a distance that probably should have taken him three times the time he’d made it in.

“Over here!” 

From among the identically dressed guards, Sehun stood out, waving his arms almost frantically, motioning him over.

Lay dashed past even him before Sehun could even say a word, his shoes crunching on broken glass as he surveyed the scene.

“How long ago?” Lay demanded, wasting no time in kneeling down next to Luhan’s sprawled out form. He couldn’t help mumbling, taking in exactly the way he was positioned, and the glass, “You little fool, Luhan. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know what he was,” Sehun said, shaking with fear. “I wasn’t the one who found him.”

“Well?” Lay demanded, looking between the faces that were closest. “Who found him then?” While he waited for a response he knelt carefully over Luhan, trying to avoid the glass as much as possible. Luhan’s breathing was steady, and while there was a horrible smear of blood from his nose and down across his cheek, the flow seemed to have stopped and was looking hopeful. For all intents and purposes, he looked like he was simply sleeping.

A voice cleared, and then a man with the rank of officer on his breastplate told Lay, “There were reports of a disturbance nearby. I dispatched several of my men to check it out while the rest of us stayed here, to guard the treasury.”

“And you found him?” Lay carefully took Luhan’s hand in his own, concentrating on drawing out his healing ability.

The officer gave a grunt of agreement. “He found us, actually, as he was apparently passing through this vicinity at the time. With the possible threat in the area, we were more concerned with protecting him, and ushered him into the treasury in order to take a more defensible stance. It wasn’t hard for his majesty to overpower us. We never saw him coming.”

Lay frowned, eyes closing as he pulled harder at his ability. It wasn’t responding, and he couldn’t feel the backlash from the healing process. This had never happened before. Ever.

“He overpowered you?” Sehun asked, the concern evident in his tone. “You’re supposed to be protecting him. And you’re twice his size!”

“Why are you even here, Sehun?” Lay asked, distracted. 

Sehun knelt down next to him. “I was meeting Luhan nearby. When he didn’t show, I came looking for him. He’s always on time, so I knew something was wrong. And I found these guys just standing around, not even doing anything to help.”

Slowly, Lay opened his eyes, gently telling Sehun, “They followed procedure. Luhan’s obviously had some sort of vision. He’s out cold now. More often than not his visions leave him injured, and the guards are under strict orders not to so much as touch him, unless absolutely necessary. They could hurt him further by mishandling him.”

With a frown, Sehun asked, “Are you healing him right now?”

“Something is wrong.” Something was terribly wrong. “I can’t heal him. I mean, I don’t think he’s hurt much, but when I try to channel any of my ability into him, which should be possible regardless of his physical state, it stops before it even starts. It bounces right back to me.”

“What’s that mean?” Sehun looked down at Luhan worriedly. “He’s okay?”

“Give me your hand.” Lay reached for it without waiting for Sehun’s response, and immediately he felt the flare of his ability surging to the surface. Sehun wasn’t injured in any way, other than the tiniest bit of soreness to his feet from the amount of walking and exploring he’d been doing recently, but Lay could still feel the passage of energy from himself to Sehun. “It’s Luhan. Luhan is blocking me. Or something is blocking me from connecting with Luhan.”

Once more Lay checked Luhan’s breathing, brushing his bangs aside, at least pleased with his coloring and the ease at which he was sleeping. He was in no immediate danger, from all Lay could tell.

“Why would Luhan turn on the guards who were supposed to be protecting him?” Sehun wondered.

Once again Lay questioned the solider, “Was the threat real? Or was it something fabricated by his majesty to get him to let you in here?”

Sehun was obviously unable to follow the conversation, but the guard seemed to know exactly what Lay was implying, and gave a firm nod. “We think he reported the threat in order to divide our numbers and force our hand. He would have known that a threat to his safety would be prioritized over the king’s orders to keep him out of the treasury. His majesty likely gave this some thought before hand.”

For the first time Sehun took a real look around. “Why would he want to get into the treasury so bad?”

Lay sighed, tucking Luhan’s hands up on his stomach and then sitting back. “Because this is where the king put the life tree’s seed under guard. The one you brought back from the life tree itself. And Luhan knew that from the start.”

The guard reported, “His majesty was in here earlier. I think he was scouting the area, looking for in particular where the seed was, and mapping out how long it would take to get to it.”

That didn’t seem right. Luhan shouldn’t have been anywhere near the seed. Everyone had agreed to keep him away, knowing there was a strong chance that any connection Luhan had with the life tree would bleed over to the seed.

“How?” Lay demanded, shooting to his feet and snapping angrily at the guard. “It’s your job to protect his majesty, even if that means from himself! The king is dealing with an emergency outside the palace right now. His majesty’s life falls on your watch, and you--”

The guard interrupted strongly, “His majesty was accompanied by the captain of the guard earlier! We answer to the captain and he gave the okay.”

“Tao?” Lay questioned. “Hs majesty was here with Tao? Why would Tao ignore the king’s orders?” Tao of all people was the very last person Lay would ever think to do such a thing.

The guard insisted, “His majesty was with the captain when they came early this morning. Later this evening, when his majesty returned by himself, he knew where the seed was, and it took him little to no effort to disarm us and reach it.”

“So that’s the glass on the floor,” Sehun remarked, his feet shifting under him. 

“And,” Lay said, dropping to a knee to hold up one of Luhan’s hands, “I’ll bet anything that he’s got the seed in his hand right now.” He hadn’t paid any mind to the way one of Luhan’s hands was clenched into a fist moments earlier, but now he was beginning to suspect that Luhan had the tiny seed clenched tightly in his palm.

Sehun guessed, “So Luhan gets in here, takes out the guards, smashes the glass, grabs the seed and then what? Has a vision? Because I’ve seen him have two before. After one he was up on his feet in a matter of seconds, and after the second he was seriously hurt. This … I’ve never seen this. Just sleeping.”

Lay bent all the way over Luhan, pressing their foreheads together, desperately hoping for some insight into what was happening with his friend. “Tell me everything you saw from the moment his majesty made his move.” Lay turned pleading eyes on the guard. “What did you see happen to him?”

The guard ran a hand across the back of his head an sighed heavily before saying, “There isn’t much to say at all. There were five of us in the room with his majesty and he gave us all a pretty severe telekinetic push. I have the goose egg on the back of my head to prove it. He shattered the glass by pushing it over, and then I saw him reach down for something in the glass--obviously the seed.”

“What happened right after?”

“His majesty froze up,” the guard said, struggling to explain it properly. “I knew he was having a vision, I’ve seen it before, but it only lasted for a second, maybe two, and then he just fell over.”

The fear in the guard’s eyes was clouded with shame, and Lay didn’t think he could bring himself to blame someone who hadn’t expected to be ambushed by his own charge.

Medics were streaming in the door and Lay said almost tiredly, “It wasn’t your fault. His majesty does what he wants, and I think even the king knew that keeping the seed under guard was only going to work for so long. You should return to your post. I’ll inform the king of what’s happened the second he’s back.”

The medics moved Luhan carefully onto a carrying stretcher, and Lay was about to depart with him when he felt Sehun tugging sharply on his sleeve. The younger boy wanted to know, “Can I come with you?”

Lay insisted, “He’s going to be okay. You don’t have to. You should go to dinner.”

Determination crossed Sehun’s face. “Luhan is my friend. He’s pretty much my best friend at this point.”

“And you,” Lay reminded, “are representing a country that the people at that dinner have spent a good portion of their lives considering the enemy. Commander Suho left you here to alleviate their concerns. You are responsible for the image of K at this moment. And you can come and see Luhan afterwards. I’ll leave word with the guards that you’ll be allowed in to see him.”

Sullenly, Sehun said, “Okay. But I’m coming to see him right after dinner. I’m not staying for the fifteen courses of desert M seems to consider necessary.”

Lay gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder and left with Luhan just after that.

A more thorough examination, performed by a trained medical official, provided no more insight into why Luhan was still out. And an hour later the king’s husband was just as unconscious as he had been when Lay had come upon him. They couldn’t get his hand to open, either, no matter how hard they pulled and tugged.

“So he won’t wake up,” Lay asked the head physician, “but he’s unhurt?”

The older man, responded, “Shouldn’t you be able to tell me that?”

Lay didn’t mention that he still couldn’t reach Luhan through his ability.

By the time dinner was likely over, though how long he meal would last was always a guess, Lay had sent word to the king about Luhan’s condition, and settled the sleeping man into his old room with the sunset coloring ceiling. When Luhan woke he was sure to be confused and disoriented, and Lay wanted him to be in a familiar setting. Luhan had spent well over a decade in the room with the sun tiles on the ceiling, and only a week or so in the king’s bedroom. Lay knew which room he’d be more comfortable in. 

“What is wrong with you?” Lay asked, seating himself next to Luhan’s bed, reaching for his hand and sliding his fingers to catch Luhan’s pulse. The steady thump of pulse kept Lay breathing evenly. “You knew that you couldn’t touch that seed. You knew we suspected it would have some affect on you. But you did it anyway. Why? We’re not that desperate, Luhan. And now all you’ve done is hurt yourself and upset the people who care about you.”

He couldn’t even begin to think about the king. His majesty had been called away before sunrise that morning to an emergency out in the countryside. It was apparently something major enough to bring the king out himself, and keep him there for the better part of the day. But he’d have received Lay’s message about Luhan’s condition by now, and Lay predicted he’d be rushing back at the moment, worried out of his mind.

“You’re a pain, Luhan,” Lay said, settling in for the wait. “But if anything happens to you, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Sehun joined him not long after that, eventually climbing in bed next to Luhan and falling into an uneasy sleep. And Xiumin returned to the palace just after him, unaware of what had happened until Lay was forced to deliver the news.

The king was the last, and Lay made himself turn away at the sight he made, standing in the doorway to Luhan’s room, looking so full of despair. 

“Why won’t he wake up?” the king asked Lay quietly in the antechamber attached to Luhan’s old room. He was looking for answers, the same as Xiumin, but he was far calmer than Lay would have expected. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s that damned seed,” Xiumin said definitively from where he stood at the archway to the bedroom, his eyes watching Luhan’s chest rise and fall. “We have to get it away from him.”

“Good luck with that,” Lay mumbled. “I’ve been trying for hours and his fingers are like steel. The most we can do now is wait this out, and hope for the best.”

A little annoyed, Xiumin remarked, “I go away for one day and this happens.”

Lay forced a grin. “You do seem to be one of the few people who can keep Luhan in line. But you deserved to spend some time with your parents. How are they?”

The small talk was relief of some sort, and a good distraction.

Then the king surprised the both of them by saying, “Tao’s run into some trouble.”

That made Lay think of how Tao had allowed Luhan into the treasury earlier that day, essentially giving him the opportunity to go through with his plans to access the seed. But now wasn’t the time to say anything, especially with the king looking as stressed as thet all likely were.

Lay dropped his voice and said, “He and Kai were going to the Forbidden City today. Something happened?”

The king shrugged. “I’m not really sure, and neither is he. I’ve only just been briefed. From what I know his call was relatively short and he asked for Luhan. He was told Luhan was indisposed. Nothing more.”

Xiumin asked, “They ran into trouble?”

The king looked a little lost as he said, “They made it safely to the Forbidden City, but not very far in it. Apparently Tao thinks he and Kai may have experienced a shared vision. Maybe even some divine intervention.”

Lay made a face and echoed, “Divine intervention?”

“I’ll have Tao explain it to us all when he returns,” the king continued. “He and Kai were forced to leave very suddenly, almost violently, and they ended up in K. Tao will spend the night there, maybe more for Chen’s benefit than his own, and report back in the morning.”

Lay said, “Luhan and I were supposed to search the archives tomorrow. Even if he does wake before then, I don’t think he’ll be up and ready for such a strenuous activity. I’ll take Sehun tomorrow instead. I’ll look for something that can help us figure out what’s going on with Mama, and Luhan for that matter.”

“Strenuous?” Xiumin laughed. “Looking through some books?”

Crossing his arms, Lay inquired, “Have you ever actually been?”

With a roll of his eyes, Xiumin said, “I might not have come to the palace for training until I was a little older than average, but I did go to school here, once my ability was identified. I’ve been to the library for research purposes plenty of times.”

“I didn’t say the library,” Lay said. “I said the archives.” Then he pointed down.

“What?” Xiumin turned to the king. “The archives aren’t the same as the library?”

“Not even close,” the king said, giving a small laugh. “The archives are underground and they hold some of the more … scandalous texts, I guess you could say, including Exo’s entire history in mathematics, literature, science, philosophy and every other possible category. The archive is literally comprised of everything we know about everything.”

Quietly, Lay confirmed, “Including all the books and scrolls that we could save from before.”

“Before?” Xiumin asked.

“Before the First Renaissance War,” the king said easily. “Before the Forbidden City was forbidden. Mama was a burgeoning religion back then. A zealot’s religion.”

“There may be something there,” Lay said, shoulders slumping. “I have to look. I have to try.” After a moment more, Lay asked the king, “How did your business go? Luhan tired to hide it, but he was worried you left so suddenly.”

The king was holding back. Lay could see it immediately on his face. He was afraid, maybe of what he’d gone out to the countryside for, or maybe just to say it.

The king, looking young and almost boyish, glance between them and then said, “There are things happening that I’ve never seen before. Things that make no sense, that I have no idea how to fight or protect the people from.”

Carefully, Lay asked, “What kinds of things?”

“I left quickly this morning because there was a death that needed to be investigated.”

“A death,” Xiumin eased out.

Lay shared Xiumin’s unspoken sentiment. While murders were somewhat rare in M, deaths were not. People died all the time, for various reasons. A single death didn’t seem to warrant the attention of the king.

As if changing his mind, the king said, “I don’t have enough information on what’s going on just yet. I’ll let the both of you know when I’m more certain. For now, Lay, I want you to stay with Luhan. Keep him comfortable and keep trying to wake him up. Xiumin--”

“I’ll guard the door,” Xiumin said, in a tone that said he would not be persuaded otherwise. “Please, your majesty. I went away for just a single day and entrusted Luhan to people who should have been able to not only protect him, but anticipate his moves. I can’t trust them again. I need to be the one watching for threats tonight, and every night after.”

As soon as the king gave his nod of approval, Xiumin was bounding over to Luhan’s bed, ready to wait the night out.

“Lay,” the king said, voice low as not to be overheard by Xiumin. “When you’re in the archives tomorrow, I need you to look something up for me.”

Lay said, “Of course, your majesty.”

Eyes worried, the king said, “Look for any references to death by … by blackness. Rot. The spread of death along the skin.”

“I don’t understand,” Lay whispered, growing more terrified by the second from the words spilling from the king’s mouth.

After some hesitation, the kings said, “The death that I looked into today was peculiar. It was a young girl who’d barely reached puberty and just begun manifesting an ability. She was due to arrive here, at the palace for training in less than a week. Her mother reported a patch of dark looking skin on her thigh to the local doctor yesterday morning. By that night it had spread to over half her body, and she died quickly after that.”

“That’s terrible,” Lay empathized, “I’ve never heard of anything like that before.”

“No,” the king agreed. “And what she looked like when she died … her skin was rotted away to black ash. It cracked, flaked, and then was carried away by the wind. She was a shell of some sort, and I have never seen anything like it. It was horrifying.”

“I’ll look,” Lay said right away. “Do you think it’s contagious? A disease of some sort?”

The king wasn’t sure, but said, “This isn’t the first death, Lay. There have been three others, all dead within a day of the first signs, and all three victims were gifted by Mama. Do you see my concern?”

Lay nodded. 

“That’s not the worst of it,” the king said, but Lay couldn’t imagine how anything worse could be said. “All four of the deaths, this last one included, occurred in people who had just recently relocated.”

“Relocated from where?” Lay barely dared to ask.

The king looked a little pale as he said, “Very near the Deadlands. And this illness, it spreads across the skin like a shadow.”

Lay swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I won’t come up from the archives until I find something useful.”

Luhan slept motionlessly through the night, neither improving nor getting worse, and Lay barely slept at all. In fact, as Xiumin paced about, offering small conversations to Lay once in a while, Sehun was the only one who seemed the least bit content. But even he woke every couple of hours, reaching instinctively for Luhan. 

“Get up,” Lay said, shaking Sehun awake about an hour after the sun had come up. If they hurried they could grab something quick to eat before setting about their task for the day.

“I don’t want to go,” Sehun said after Lay had explained they were going to go on ahead to the archives without Luhan. “I want to stay here.”

“And what him sleep?” Lay questioned. “No. Get up. You need to be helpful, especially in light of what’s happened to Luhan. We might actually find something down there that helps him. That should be motivation enough for you.”

“Fine,” Sehun said, rolling out of bed and trudging off to eat and dress in clean clothes.

“Xiumin,” Lay said, touching his friend’s shoulder gently. “You should get some sleep.”

“Get some sleep?” Xiumin asked with a laugh. “I’m supposed to sleep soundly while Luhan is stuck like this?”

“Whatever is happening to him,” Lay sighed, “there isn’t anything we can do about it, and there’s no use in worrying until today passes. If he’s like this tomorrow then we’ll have cause to be concerned. But you aren’t doing anyone any good by wearing yourself out. We’re going to need you awake and alert when Luhan comes to. You know he’s going to have something interesting to say.”

Lay could see Xuimin wavering, especially when he said, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” Lay confirmed. “And Tao will be back any minute. Maybe he already is. He’ll watch over Luhan for you. You need to rest.”

It only took a few more minutes, and an inquiry into whether Tao was actually back at the palace yet, to send Xiumin off to his own bed. Lay suspected he wouldn’t stay there for long, but any amount of time was a victory.

When Tao did arrive, greeting Lay with a firm hug, he asked, “No change in Luhan?” He gave the sleeping form a forlorn look. “It’s eating his majesty up to not be able to be at Luhan’s side. But this thing he’s dealing with, this emergency from the country side, it’s only starting to look worse. He’s had to leave the palace again.”

“We spoke about that last night. It seems … more than worrisome.” Lay put a hand down on Luhan’s wrist, still feeling no spark between them. “I heard about your adventure with Kai. His majesty mentioned you ran into some trouble, so I‘m glad to see you‘re okay. When did you learn the details of Luhan’s condition?”

“Just before I came back,” Tao said, head hanging. “This is my fault.”

Clearly Tao had already worked out what had happened with Luhan, and how they’d all been manipulated to a point. 

“You were wrong to let him into the treasury,” Lay agreed. “You should have known he wasn’t going to let the matter go, especially with how hard he was pushing for access to the seed. So you made a mistake there, but we also both know Luhan’s personality. This was going to happen no matter what. No one tells Luhan what to do.”

“Hm,” Tao said, seating himself wearily next to Luhan’s bed. “You’re right about that.”

“I’m heading down to the archives with Sehun in a few minutes, and Xiumin is getting some much needed sleep. If you could stay with Luhan, we’d all feel a little less uneasy.”

Gingerly, Tao shook Luhan’s shoulder a little, then said, almost amazed, “He’s just like Baekhyun.”

“Huh?” Lay cocked his head.

Tao gave him a serious look. “This happened yesterday evening, right?” Lay nodded, and Tao continued, “That’s probably the exact time that Baekhyun dropped like a sack too.”

Eyes widening, Lay demanded, “Baekhyun is exhibiting the same condition as Luhan?”

“It looks that way, no one can wake him up,” Tao said. “And hey, I guess that makes some sort of sense, because aren’t they linked?”

“They share dreams and sometimes visions,” Lay said with a frown. “But I didn’t think their physical conditions were mutually exclusive.” Did that mean that they were sharing a dream right now? “Maybe I should make contact with Suho. Does he know about Luhan?”

“He knows,” Tao said, slowly reaching into his coat pocket to hand a letter over to Lay. “He’s just as in the dark about this as we are. All we can say for certain is that they went down at the same time, and no one has been able to wake either of them. And here, this is Commander Suho’s response to your love letter. I’m glad I’m playing errand boy now.”

Lay smacked Tao hard over the back of the head with the heavy paper stock of the envelop and said, “I believe Kai was asked to deliver correspondence, not you.” Then Lay paused, eyes going back to Luhan’s still form. “He must also know about Luhan then. He must be scared for the person he loves. How did you keep him away?”

“Not me,” Tao confided. “The Commander gave him strict orders to drop me off here at the palace and get back to K without any detours. And Kai, despite being the little shit he is, actually respects his superior. But no, I don’t think that’ll stop him from trying to sneak in and see Luhan if he’s this way for much longer. In fact, you might want to let Xiumin know the next time you see him that if he catches sight of Kai at Luhan’s bedside, not to attack him out of instinct. Look what happened last time.”

Lay gave him a wry look.

“Oh,” Sehun said, slipping into the room just after that. “You’re back.”

Tao leaned back in his chair. “I am.”

“Come along,” Lay said, leading Sehun out of the room. “It’s a little tricky to get into the archives.”

Tricky was maybe a little bit of an understatement. The archives were accessible from only three entry points, and two of those ways were passageways Lay didn’t want to reveal to Sehun. Instead he led the younger boy down an abandoned hallway, one that servants had readily used when the royal family had been much bigger than it was now. 

“In here,” Lay said, ducking into a room that was unmarked in everyway and incredibly easy to miss. Lay was only confident that he’d gone the right way because of the slight slope to the room.

“Is this where we move a bookcase out of the way?” Sehun asked, still unhappy to be heading down into the archives and away from Luhan.

“Hardly,” Lay said. He felt along the far wall for a second, fingers picking up dust until they caught a slight indentation. He pressed on it and with a soft hiss the wall swung inward.

“Cool,” Sehun eased out.

They had to go down several flights of stairs and Lay explained, “The air is going to feel a bit dry to you. Take short breaths until you get used to it, and don’t physically exert yourself. Some of the texts down here are hundreds of years older and more, so handle the with care and keep that in mind.”

“Am I even going to be able to read them?” Sehun asked. “We speak Standard most of the time, and I’m fluent in both K’s dialect and M’s, but if the books are a couple hundred years old or more, as you claim, they’re not going to be in any of those.”

“Which is why I’m here,” Lay said. “I studied ancient languages at the university up until a few years ago. I’ll search the older material and you stick to the newer. Divide and conquer.”

“It stinks,” Sehun said when they reached the ground level.

Lay flipped a nearby light switch and suddenly the expansive cavernous space in front of them was illuminated, highlighting seemingly endless rows and shelves stuffed full of books. “Better get used to that smell.”

“What is all this?” Sehun asked, taking a tentative step forward. “This is crazy.”

Lay remembered the first time he’d seen the archive. He’d been younger than Sehun was now and thoroughly unprepared for the hundreds of thousands of texts at his disposal. It was still overwhelming so many years later.

“This is history,” Lay told Sehun, guiding him down the middle, indicating, “each section is cataloged and clearly marked by region, date and event. The amount of history in this single space is enough to spend a lifetime studying, and then some.”

Blinking rapidly, Sehun breathed out, “There’s no way we can get through even a fraction of this material.”

“No,” Lay agreed. “We’re going to concentrate on two specific areas. We have two missions today, and we can’t fail either.”

“Are you serious?” Sehun asked when Lay put him in front of a medical section. “I thought I was going to be reading an old tome about some ancient battle or something. Not the history of the common cold.”

“We don’t just keep history books down here,” Lay explained patiently.

“Okay, but that doesn’t tell me why you want me to look through this stuff.”

Carefully, keeping in mind how little the king probably wanted others to know about the recent spread of illness, Lay told Sehun about the black patches of infection that were killing people in less than a day.

“Look for any accounts in the past hundred years of the same thing happening. These are the medical accounts of every royal physician that has served Exo since we emerged from the rubble of our previous civilization. The king asked this specifically of us, and he wouldn’t have unless it was of the utmost importance. I want to know if even a single other person in our history exhibited the same symptoms.”

Sehun’s head tipped back as he looked how far up the shelve went. “Sure. This isn’t going to take all day. Nope.”

Feeling bold, Lay reached out and pinched Sehun sharply. “I understand that you are concerned for Luhan, and that you’d rather be by his side, but this is where you’re needed. There are four cases of this illness striking in a very short amount of time, and it has only been hitting those of us with Mama’s gifts. Considering the link that all of these people, having lived or been near the Deadlands at some point, we need to look into this immediately. Grow up and act as if Suho’s trust in you isn’t misplaced.”

“Fine,” Sehun said, rubbing his arm. “But just for the record, the commander told me the most I’d be doing here was attending dinners and being entertained.”

“Start reading,” Lay ordered, then he pointed down the aisle. “I’m going further back, chronologically speaking. We know the language that our ancestors spoke before their cities became forbidden has been lost to us, but a great deal of scholars here in M are confident in what we think it sounded like. I can read it, in any case. I’ll be trying to make my way through those texts while you’re here. We’ll work for the next several hours, and then take a break for lunch. Understood?”

Without waiting for Sehun’s reply, Lay strode off, walking the aisles with ease. It could be a little creepy, and even disorientating after a while, but he had enough practice to navigate his way without much trouble. He could only hope that Sehun stayed where he was supposed to. If Sehun wandered off they could lose precious time.

As Lay reached the desired section he tried to focus his attention on selecting the right place to start, and not on the growing list of things to worry over. The truth was, it wasn’t just Luhan’s condition that had Lay concerned over. The planetary allignment was drawing ever nearer, the recent targeting of gifted people was troubling, and they were still no closer to understanding what the threat to Mama was. 

Luhan was their best chance at figuring out those shadows threatening Mama, and he was absolutely no use to them.

It was troubling what was happening to Luhan, but there was a nagging feeling at Lay’s stomach that it was something they’d end up benefiting from. 

“Focus, Lay,” he told himself, trailing his fingers along the spines of the books. Some were impossibly old and had to be handled with great care.

He’d just chosen a book to start with when his eyes caught a small symbol etched into the spin of a book up high. Squinting at the book told Lay the symbol was that of Mama’s life tree, and the book’s spine indicated it was a religious text. 

As much as he tried to determine it, there was no working out why he’d suddenly looked so far up, especially after already choosing his book.

“Okay, Mama,” he said, appreciation in his voice. “I understand.” He strained for the book for a second, having to wedge himself up on a lower shelf for the extra boost, but without too much of a fuss he was holding it in his hands shortly thereafter.

And prominent on the cover, each one more beautiful than the last, were twelve recognizable symbols.

“That’s more like it,” Lay declared, and prepared to settle in for a long day.


	18. Baekhyun

“Okay,” Baekhyun said definitively, hands thrust deep into his pockets. “This is odd.”

Luhan took a step forward to stand next to him. “Really? I find it all fascinating.”

Luhan probably would, but for Baekhyun, the sight in front of him was odd. It was odd and unfamiliar and maybe it even made him feel a little uncomfortable. It all probably came with the territory of being completely lost as to where he was, or even what was going on around him.

“What is this place?”

“It’s called Seoul,” Luhan said cheerfully, rocking back on his feet. “It’s a city in a country called South Korea.”

“Huh.” It was almost breathtaking, the amount of chaos around them. People were zipping about everywhere, there were loud, offensive noises every other second, and space to simply breathe seemed so horribly limited. If this was a city, it didn’t look like a very comfortable one. It looked like a terrifying place to be, let alone live.

Luhan continued on, “Population almost ten million. That’s bigger than M and K put together. Far bigger.”

“Where is this place?” Baekhyun asked, spinning around. “Seoul you said?”

Easily, Luhan said, “It’s on Earth.”

“And where is Earth?”

“I’m not exactly sure.” Luhan shrugged, no seemingly bothered in the least bit. “Somewhere important.”

Baekhyun took a steadying breath, then asked, “Are you dreaming, or am I? Which one of us is caught in the other’s dream?”

With a laugh, Luhan replied, “It’s more likely to be Chanyeol’s dream, than either of ours.”

“What?” Baekhyun’s head cocked.

Luhan made a flourishing gesture. “This is the place that Chanyeol has been dreaming about almost obsessively lately. Earth. Only, he didn’t know it was Earth. And for clarification purposes, I think he only believed he was dreaming because he didn’t understand what he was seeing. I’m convinced he’s been having visions the entire time.”

“Visions,” Baekhyun said flatly.

“Visions.” Luhan nodded. “His connection isn’t as strong as mine is to Mama, and he spent a good portion of his life being separated by a great deal of distance from her life tree. It only makes sense that she’d be able to reach him when he went to sleep, and was the most defenseless.”

Baekyhun took another look around. “So you think this is what Chanyeol’s been dreaming of? I mean, having visions of? But that doesn’t make any sense. This is no place I’ve ever seen before. It’s clearly not on Exo. You said Earth, right?”

“Better brace yourself.” Luhan took a visible step back, pulling at Baekhyun. “And try not to freak out on me, okay? I know it’s going to be jarring.”

“What--”

A voice cut through the heavy traffic of the street before them, muddled with people of all sizes and looks, “Baekhyun! Don’t be mad! Slow down!”

Baekhyun felt air catch in his throat as a carbon copy of himself came into view, striding angrily down the street, a bag hitched over one shoulder. And trailing after him was Chanyeol, or at least someone who looked a lot like Chanyeol. Identical to Chanyeol, even.

“Mad?” the other Baekhyun asked. “Why would I be mad? You only decided to crash the most important interview of my life!”

“I did not crash it!”

“Breathe,” Luhan reminded Baekhyun, pulling him after them.

“What is this?” Baekhyun demanded, forcing himself take in long breaths. “Why is there a copy of me? Why is there a copy of Chanyeol?”

“Because I imagine this is our future.”

The other Baekhyun hissed, “You said you were okay with me going. You promised you were.”

“Explain,” Baekhyun demanded of Luhan. “How can this be out future?”

“Not really sure about that either,” Luhan said, “but I’m starting to understand why Chanyeol’s been so upset about this for a while. It’s disconcerting.”

“To say the least.”

“Oh.” Luhan pointed across the street. “There’s everyone else.”

True to the words, a few steps more and Baekhyun could make out an identical Kai, an identical D.O., and actually, all of the other guardians. It was easy to see they were friends and overly familiar with each other, and there didn’t seem to be any formality separating them.

Baekyhun found himself questioning, “How can this be our future? Here? On this strange planet?”

“Sometimes,” Luhan said, “Chanyeol told me he dreams about different situations. We’re almost always here, on Earth, in Seoul, but sometimes the variables change. Sometimes only some of us are friends. Sometimes we seem to have and know about our abilities, and other times we don’t.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened. “Is that other you making out with that other Xiumin?”

“Our relationships change from time to time as well,” Luhan said, seemingly not at all bothered by how their doppelgangers were acting. “However Chanyeol swears that you and he are constants in whatever scenario he sees. You two always seem to find your way to each other.”

“So this changes?”

Luhan hummed his agreement. “I think Chanyeol keeps seeing different futures for us because of how we’re changing things now. The variables change, so the end result changes. I like this one. Look.”

Baekhyun looked back at the twelve boys who were crowded into a single booth at the noodle house nearby. It looked like the other Baekhyun had forgiven the other Chanyeol, and they were all laughing at something the other Sehun had said.

“You like the version of the future where you and Kai don’t get to be together?”

There was a pinch of sadness in Luhan’s features. “It beats the future where no one knows who I am, like I never existed in the first place. Or the one in which Kai and Xiumin are hunted down for their abilities. If this is the only sacrifice made for a future where all twelve of us are safe and sound, then it’s one made without hesitation.”

Baekyhun didn’t know if he quite believed Luhan about that, but he could understand. But he had more questions, and the one off the top of his head was, “How can our future be on another planet? How does that make sense in the least bit?”

“It doesn’t,” Luhan offered, “but I don’t think we’re meant to understand what we’re seeing right now. We’re only meant to use it as hope.”

“And why is Mama showing this to us?”

“Maybe it’s not intentional,” Luhan reasoned. “Maybe it is. It’s hard to say. Oh, and I apologize.”

“For what?” Baekhyun asked, trying his best not to look over at the group anymore.

“What were you doing before you started having this dream?”

“I …” Baekyhun stopped, trying to draw up the memory. It wasn’t often that he had to think about what he’d been doing prior to sharing any sort of dream with Luhan. And if he did, the chances were it was just going to be his nighttime routine. “I was ….” He thought harder, concentrating by blocking out the sounds around him. 

“You weren’t getting ready for bed,” Luhan volunteered. “Or at least it’s very unlikely.”

“I was going to dinner,” Baekhyun eased out slowly. “Chanyeol had gone ahead with D.O., and I was going to get Chen. It was time for dinner … and then … nothing.”

Apologetically, Luhan said, “I thought we were only connected when we were sleeping, but it may be more than that. I know for certain that I’m asleep right now, and I think with the way I forced a vision, I ended up doing the same for you.”

“What?” Baekhyun demanded. “You know better than to force something like that.” Also, he’d never experienced a shared vision before with Luhan. They dreamed together all the time, but visions were Luhan’s realm. None of Luhan’s visions had ever bled over into Baekhyun’s sleep. 

“I actually wasn’t trying to force it! Not really!” Luhan demanded. He asked, “Kris--his majesty, is keeping you up to date with the things happening in M, right? You’re aware of the seed that Sehun pulled from inside the life tree?”

“Yes. The king forwards most news to Commander Suho, and I read everything that comes our way. I thought the king was putting that thing under lock and key, especially after Sehun practically lost control of his body, trying to get to it.”

Luhan pointed out, “Mama was pushing him towards it for a reason. That’s the same push I felt every second I was separated from the seed. I know this sounds stupid, Baekhyun, or at the very least doesn’t make any sense, but I knew I was supposed to keep the seed safe the second that Sehun had it in his possession. I knew it was mine to protect. Kris trying to keep it away from me was … concern that I appreciate, but ultimately foolhardy. I had to get to it.”

“And this is what happened?” Baekhyun reasoned. 

“So like I said, maybe this is something Mama wanted to show us for whatever purpose, or maybe this is what we just ended up seeing. I just know I had to have that seed in my hand, but I didn’t know you’d get pulled in too. So I’m sorry. Please apologize to everyone on your end when you wake up.”

The telltale sign that Baekhyun was seconds away from waking up was pulling at him. The edges of his visions were going a little gray, and it meant he had only a minute or two to spare. “We’re going to wake up?”

“You’re going to wake up,” Luhan clarified. “I’m not. I can feel it. The reason that I’m asleep … whatever it is, it’s important, and I need more time.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He’d always felt oddly protective over Luhan, which was just as well, because he knew Luhan felt protective over him. They were brothers of a sort, they’d been through a lot together, and knew each other well. Their friendship was an odd one, but the oddly beautiful kind.

“I’ll be fine,” Luhan brushed off. “I’m more worried about you. Me having this visions shouldn’t have affected you. Sometimes my visions drain me. Other times they hurt me. I don’t want that for you. You don’t have Lay if something goes wrong.”

Baekhyun assured, “I’ve got Kai. If anything goes wrong, he could have me there in a second. So stop worrying . We’ll figure this out.”

Luhan was saying something else, potentially something important, but all of it was drowned out by the roar in Baekhyun as he came awake.

Baekhyun gasped for air as he shot up in the bed he was laying on. His feet were twisted in the sheets as his eyes shot around the room, quickly identifying that this was his room, not the infirmary.

“Baekhyun?”

The bathroom door opened and a weary looking Chanyeol poked his head through, pausing almost in disbelief.

“Chanyeol?”

A second later the wind was knocked out of Baekhyun again as a shaking Chanyeol enveloped him in long, protective arms.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun asked, rubbing Chanyeol’s back soothingly. “It’s okay. I promise.”

“It’s not okay! I couldn’t get you to wake up. No one could.”

For a brief moment Baekhyun tried to imagine what it must have been like for Chanyeol. If the situation had been reversed, and something had happened to Chanyeol, Baekhyun knew he wouldn’t have been okay.

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun offered, pressing his mouth to the edge of Chanyeol’s lips. “I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter, but for the record, Luhan is sorry.”

Chanyeol drew back. “So you guys were dreaming together?”

“We were,” Baekhyun confirmed. “And something weird happened.”

He did his best to explain what he’d experienced to Chanyeol, not only about what he’d seen, but how Luhan’s vision had triggered something in Baekhyun.

“This isn’t going to happen every time, right?” Chanyeol demanded. “Luhan gets hurt most of the time when he has those visions. What if that starts happening to you?”

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun slid his legs over to the side of the bed. He let his fingers thread through Chanyeol’s. “If I’m connected to Luhan in this way now, then there’s nothing we can do about it. But at least I got to see some of what you’ve been dreaming about.”

Chanyeol helped guide Baekhyun up to his feet. “Did Luhan tell you about his crazy theory?”

“That it’s the future?”

Chanyeol nodded. “Crazy, right? Crazy impossible.”

Baekhyun swayed on his feet for a second, then found his center of balance and said seriously, “All things considered, this is the least crazy impossible thing I’ve heard all week.” Then he let Chanyeol kiss him properly, and tried to block out the experience of his first vision, and how it had left his body achingly sore.

Chanyeol seemed to shadow him for that entire day, following Baekhyun as he reported in to Suho what had happened, and contacted M about what Luhan had said to him. He spoke personally to the king, who seemed relieved that at least Luhan’s mind was fine, and then promised to try and check in on him again later that night when he went to bed, if Luhan was still out.

“Are you sure you should be up?” Chanyeol answered him by the end of the day. “I think you should be in bed resting.”

“I think,” Baekhyun challenged, “by your account I was out for the better part of a day. That’s more than enough rest.” The truth was, he was feeling exhausted, but there were lines of worry creasing into Chanyeol’s face, and the last thing Baekhyun wanted to do was worry him. “I’m going to go see Chen. Can you detach yourself from me for one second?”

Chanyeol frowned at him. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I am,” Baekhyun said bluntly, then gave him a smile. “I know you’ve been neglecting your duties to stay with me. Go check in and get some work done with the little bit of day that’s left. I’m going to be fine, okay? You can’t hover over me endlessly like this forever.”

“Try me,” Chanyeol said, but with a little more prodding, he was heading off towards where he needed to be.

And Baekhyun was on his way to see Chen.

“You look good,” Chen said when he opened the door. “For a guy who’s supposed to be in a coma.”

“Is that what they were calling it?” Baekhyun inquired. “I was only asleep.”

“No one could wake you up.” Chen invited Baekhyun in. “It was pretty scary, being that you and Luhan were both out at the same time. The same exact time.”

“About that,” Baekhyun brushed off. “It’s not important. Or rather, we can talk about it at a later date. I’m more interested in what you’re doing tomorrow.”

“Tommorrow?” Chen took a seat in a nearby chair. “Aren’t you supposed to be like a fancy secretary? Shouldn’t you already know what my schedule looks like?”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “If I was a secretary of any type, and don’t say it like it’s a profession that’s lacking in any way, I’d be the Commander’s, and that wouldn’t include me controlling, setting, or knowing your schedule. Plus, I just spent some time in a so called coma, so I’m a little out of the loop.”

Chen’s eyes flicked upwards as he thought, then relayed, “I have a breakfast meeting with one of your election candidates. It’ll be televised, apparently, with the first primary race coming up at the end of the week, and from what I hear, this candidate is running on a platform of Never Again. As in, never again will M be allowed to control and subjugate K. So that should be fun. Oh, wait, did I say fun? I meant awkward and excruciatingly painful.”

Baekhyun knew exactly what candidate Chen was talking about immediately. There were four who seemed to be emerging as front runners, and there’d be three after the first primary, but only one was radial enough to stand on such a platform. And he was Baekhyun’s least favorite. K and M desperately needed a period of calm and friendship, not antagonistic militarization. 

“You have to go?”

“I have to go,” Chen verified. “Unlike Sehun, who’s apparently spending his days going to parties, stuffing himself full of dessert and hanging out with his new best friend, I’m working over here.”

Baekhyun laughed, “You’re also more mature than Sehun, older, and you have a sense of responsibility. Sehun will get there.”

Chen shot Baekhyun an irritated look. “Why’re you asking? Any chance you can spring me?”

Baekhyun angled himself in a chair across from Chen. “Commander Suho likes me, but he doesn’t like me that much. He’s in charge of making sure this election process goes smoothly. If I do anything to mess that up in any way, I’ll be in the level of trouble that Kai currently resides at.”

Chen winced. “The Commander still isn’t getting over Kai almost getting K wiped off the map because of his relationship with Luhan, is he?”

“Not even close.”

Seeming more easy going, now that he’d spent a while in K, Chen said, “Well, I have to admit, I was upset about that in the beginning too. But Kai’s not that bad when you get to know him, and oddly enough, he and Luhan compliment each other in a way. If things had been different, I could see myself supporting them. Maybe being away from M and a rigorous military routine has made me soft over here.”

“Soft?” Baekhyun hardly thought that was possible. “Unlikely. But I came to see you firstly because it was an excuse to ditch Chanyeol. I love him, but he can be a little overbearing from time to time. And more importantly, secondly, I want to go visit where I found the book with you as soon as possible. Tomorrow, hopefully. We’re running out of time and things are escalating quickly. You and I need to see if I missed something there, or if there’s any clue as to why such an important book would be hidden in such a place.”

“You get me out of that breakfast tomorrow and we can go right now.”

It was odd to Baekhyun, but as he sat so casually across from Chen, he could almost call the man a friend. They’d spent several days together doing various activities, they’d had meals together, and spent time just talking. Maybe they were friends. It was simply hard to imagine that if the war hadn’t ended, Baekhyun could have met Chen on the battlefield. If it had come down to it, they could have fought each other, with disastrous results. But here they were now, chatting with each other, joking and laughing.

“I can’t do that,” Baekhyun said with a grin. “But I’ll get you a free pass to something else. Most of the other officers here owe me a favor or two. If you need to bail on something, I can call a favor in. Deal? You go with me tomorrow, and you have that favor waiting for you.”

Chen told him honestly, “You don’t have to bribe me. I was just kidding with you.”

“I know.” Baekhyun got to his feet, and dared to say, “But it’s yours all the same. So I’ll come and get you after your horribly traumatic breakfast date?”

“You sure I can’t call that favor in early?”

Baekhyun laughed, “Wear warm clothes. We’re going near the sea and it’ll be windy.”

A smile dropped off Chen’s face. “How far near the sea? What part of the coastline?”

Giving pause, Baekhyun tried to work out why Chen’s entire demeanor had changed. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Chen said immediately, clearing his throat. “No problem. Never mind.”

Baekhyun honestly wanted to push the subject at hand, but Chen looked more than a little testy, and Baekhyun was beginning to wonder how much time he had left before exhaustion won him over.

“Alright,” Baekhyun ended up saying, letting it all slide. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

That night as Baekhyun lay in bed, Chanyeol curled around him in a fitful sleep, he tried not to let himself get distracted by any of the many things that had been happening lately. And not just the things that had been happening to him, but also to all the people he was connected to.

Chanyeol mumbled something in his sleep, his head burrowing deeper into Baekhyun’s shoulder. Baekhyun wondered if he was dreaming about Earth, with it’s impossibly high buildings, crazy population and frantic pace. Maybe he was dreaming up a different future than the one he’d seen the last time he’d gone to sleep. Were the things they did now, on Exo, really effecting the things that Chanyeol dreamed about? But then after all, Luhan had said they weren’t really just dreams, but visions disguised as dreams because of Chanyeol’s distnace from Mama’s life tree. 

Thinking about it all made Baekhyun’s head hurt a little.

Chanyeol gave a sudden startle and sat up, asking in the near pitch darkness of their room, “Baekhyun? You awake?”

Baekhyun kept as still as possible. If he admitted to being awake it would take much longer to get Chanyeol back to sleep. Baekhyun had seen the lack of sleep written all over Chanyeol’s face earlier, and that was something he couldn’t abide by.

As he waited for Chanyeol to fall back asleep, Baekhyun found himself giving in to the need himself. But Luhan wasn’t there to greet him, and neither was Earth. Did that mean their connection was fractured in some way? It didn’t feel like when Luhan was blocking him out. Maybe Luhan’s sleep cycle was just off and he was awake. Before Baekhyun could question much more, he fell deeper into a regular dream all his own, and was distracted completely from any rational thought.

In the morning, as Baekhyun lounged on a bed a bit longer and watched Chanyeol dress in his uniform, he said, “I’m going out of the capital with Chen today.”

The displeasure was on Chanyeol’s face before he even said, “I don’t think that’s the greatest idea ever, considering you face planted recently, and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t get you to wake up.”

Baekhyun patted the spot on the bed next to him. “Come here.”

Chanyeol slotted the buttons on the front of his uniform jacket. “I’m supposed to meet Kai for drills in less than twenty minutes.”

“Sit,” Baekhyun urged, savoring the picture of Chanyeol done up in his full uniform. Most of the time Chanyeol chucked his jacket to the side and made a point to lose it, or mismatched his buttons on purpose to annoy Suho. But today seemed different. Maybe it was because one of the electoral candidates was in the capital. Baekhyun knew how desperate Suho was to at least seem like he ran a competent military. Once the elections were held and they had their first democratically chosen leader, Suho’s position wouldn’t be guaranteed. So he needed to make a good show of everything now.

“What?” Chanyeol huffed out, sitting.

“I know I scared you,” Baekhyun said, reaching up to cup the side of Chanyeol’s face. “I never used to be effected by Luhan and his connection to Mama. I never used to feel the backlash of his visions. That’s scaring you probably as much as it’s scaring me. But I’m fine. Look at me. I’m fine and I’m going to stay that way.”

“You didn’t just scare me,” Chanyeol confided, pressing a kiss to Baekhyun’s palm. “When you fell, and when I couldn’t wake you up, that was the most terrified I’ve ever been in my life. I thought I was going to lose it. I have never doubted how much I love you. I’ve probably always been a little in love with you, right from the start, but I …”

“I’m sorry.” Baekhyun reached up for a fierce hug. 

“I want to get married.”

“Huh?” Baekhun sat up fully on the bed and tucked his legs crossed in front of him. “You want to get married?”

“Married,” Chanyeol said firmly. “I want you to be my husband.”

“Everyone already knows we belong to each other,” Baekhyun pointed out.

“I don’t care. I want it to be official. I want to marry you.”

When Baekhyun thought about it, there was nothing else he really wanted to do with his life other than grow old with Chanyeol. 

“Baekhyun? Did I just completely freak you out?” Chanyeol looked so frightened at the prospect.

“You need to get going,” Baekhyun stated, pulling Chanyeol in for a sweet, slow kiss. “Kai is waiting. And I promised to rescue Chen from his breakfast with the electoral candidate. But afterwards, tonight, we should talk more of this marriage business.”

Chanyeol ducked in for a quick peck to Baekhyun’s mouth and then shot to his feet, heading right away to the door. He called back, “Be careful while you’re out there! I’ll see you later tonight!”

Baekyhun let himself flop down on the bed and stare up at the almost gray ceiling. If he and Chanyeol were married they could move to new, bigger quarters. They’d get an extra monthly stipend. They’d be eligible adopt. They could wear matching commitment rings. They could file their yearly papers together. They’d be married.

It was an absurdly nice notion. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Chen observed when Baekhyun met him just before the day stretched into the afternoon.

“I am,” Baekhyun said with a shrug. He led Chen to the vehicle he’d requested for the day. “And you seem to be in one piece. That’s a surprise, considering what you led me to believe about the candidate.”

Chen slid into the passenger seat comfortably. “Have you actually met that guy? He was all smiles to me today, but it was very clear from the start that he’d gladly rip my face off if given the opportunity. It was a lovely meal, what with all the covert insults and backhanded insinuations.”

It was going to be a long drive, but Baekhyun was more worried about remembering the way. He’d dreamed about the cave for an endless amount of nights, but once he’d actually recovered the book, his memory had started to fade almost immediately. Maybe it was a sign he wasn’t meant to go back, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“Can you blame some of K’s citizens for being a little touchy on the subject of M? Especially after the war just ended? It was a war that lasted for the better part of ten years.”

“I understand the anger,” Chen said. “I understand the resentment and the distrust. I just don’t understand the lack of want for peace. That’s what gets me. I’m telling you, that guy I spent the morning with, he would have gladly gone right back to the way things were if given the chance. He seems to be under the impression that K was winning the war.”

“Time,” Baekhyun mused. “We all just need time.”

They drove of the better part of the afternoon, and just when they were beginning to get hungry, the coast came into view.

“Still as beautiful as I--” Chen broke off suddenly.

“Want to tell me the reason you were apprehensive about coming back here?” Baekhyun said, pulling onto a road that ran parallel to the coast. There were rows of houses spread around, some more spaced out than others, but most of them looking untouched from the war.

Chen snorted, “You want me to believe that you and D.O. don’t have sleepover parties and share all the gossip that you know?”

Baekhyun challenged, “Do you and your friends have sleepovers?”

Honestly, Chen offered, “Sometimes we’d all end up in Luhan’s room for the night. Well, not any more, I’d imagine. He’s married to the king, and that would just be awkward, but before, kind of. D.O. … he didn’t …”

Baekhyun took his eyes off the road for a second to make contact with Chen’s gaze. “D.O. is exceptionally trustworthy, Chen. If you asked him not to say anything about where you were born, and exactly who you’re afraid to run into down here, he wouldn’t. He didn’t.”

Chen’s eyes narrowed. “But clearly you know.”

“There was a dossier.”

“On me?” Chen asked, startled. “K has a dossier on me?”

“Actually,” Baekhyun corrected, “when you were designated liaison, your king sent the file over. Don’t make that face at me. It’s nothing terribly exciting, I promise you. It’s mostly filled with some medical history, personal history, likes, dislikes, tendencies, behaviors, and an outline of your abilities. It only exists for us to avoid some kind of international incident, and other than myself and the commander, only a few others even know it exists, let alone have read it.”

“Oh.” Chen seemed to settle down in his seat. His eyes were locked on the road ahead, and he said, “It’s coming up. So many years, and I still remember the way home.”

Baekhyun was silent until once again Chen spoke, pointing out exactly what land belonged to his parents as they passed by.

“We can stop,” Baekhyun offered, looking over the pleasant looking house. “They might be surprised, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“I’ve been in the capital for a while,” Chen argued. “And Commander Suho has been very public with both my name and my face. They know I’m here by now. There’s no way they don’t. I’m not going to go begging them to take me back as their son. They didn’t mind when I left, I can’t imagine they’d care about me coming back.”

Baekhyun tried not to judge. “Okay. Tell me if you change your mind.”

They were parked a short distance away from the mouth of the cave by the time midday rolled around. It really wasn’t so much of a cave as an opening in the jagged rocks that ran along the coastline. It could only be accessed when the tide went out, and even then it meant cold, wet ankles and the fear of drowning. Baekhyun wasn’t exactly thrilled to be going back in.

“Hook this on your shirt,” Baekhyun said, handing a tiny, circular disk to Chen. “The air may not be safe if we go very deep into the passageway. It’ll light up and indicate right away if we have to leave.” Along with that he handed Chen a flashlight. “Now that I think about it, we should have brought Kai. I don’t look forward to getting trapped in that passageway by the tide if it comes down to it.”

“We’ll be fine,” Chen said, heading forward in a brazen way. “This beats sitting around, listening to exceptionally boring people talk about exceptionally boring things.”

“I think on the docket for today’s talk was the grain harvest.”

“See, boring.” 

Baekhyun followed after Chen easily. “Yes, very boring. It’s only the report that’ll determine how hard of a winter we’ll have, and if M will need to render assistance, which is sure to ruffle feathers on both sides.”

“Jeeze,” Chen laughed out. “You must really like politics.”

No, Baekhyun wanted to argue. He just paid attention. At least to the important things.

“Lights on,” Chen called out once they were through the mouth and headed down a passageway that thankfully was not growing narrower. 

“Maybe I should lead,” Baekhyun said, cutting in front. “There’s going to be a branch up above.” 

They turned left when given the choice, and then left again, before finally another right. And then, just as the air was starting to really thin, though they were still in the clear by their indicators, they emerged into the same cavern area that Baekhyun was beginning to remember more clearly.

“I can’t see anything,” Chen said, turning his flashlight in all directions. “These beams aren’t strong enough. How did you find the book in this darkness?”

Bakehyun turned his own light up to the ceiling, checking his position in the open space. “I don’t think I had to look for it. I just instinctively knew where it was. Mama was guiding me towards it. I could have been blind and still found it.”

“I feel blind in here,” Chen commented. 

Baekhyun wasn’t one to complain, but Chen was certainly right. The light from their flashlights was poor and they were hardly going to find anything with them. Maybe not even the exit if they moved any further in. They were in no danger of being forgotten by anyone at the capital, but it would still be a while before anyone came looking for them, and even longer before Kai of D.O. were able to follow the hand written directions he’d left.

“Can you light it up?”

Baekhyun turned towards the sound of his voice. He couldn’t even see Chen anymore, only the light from the small device he held. “Light up?”

“That’s your ability, isn’t it?” Chen asked. “So light this place up.”

Something deep in Baekhyun’s stomach protested right away, fear rolling through him. “I’m not supposed to,” he said instinctively, feeling almost sick at the thought. “It’s not safe. The darkness will be drawn to the light.”

Chen corrected, “It wasn’t safe. I mean, that was before the twelve of us were together and figuring this mess out. Things are different now.”

“I don’t think I should.”

Chen sighed heavily. “Then we should just head back now, before the tide catches us. I mean, I’m afraid to take another step forward. I don’t want to trip and fall and break my neck. Imagine how that’d look. I can see the headline now, ‘M dignitary involved in suspiciously odd accident in isolated location.’”

“Fine.” Baekhyun pushed down the fear. “And you might want to close your eyes. At least at first.”

It had been more than just a few years since he’d used his ability. It had been so long he barely remembered how to pull it out of him. Hiding who he was and what he could do had become second nature to him, and it felt wrong to go against that.

But it came flowing back to him like second nature after a beat of his heart, and he let it unleash around him flooding the space with the brightest of light. 

“Holy shit,” Chen said, voice echoing. 

The cavern space was utterly beautiful. As Baekhyun radiated light, the walls shined shades of blue, purple and black, almost sparkling like stars. There were juts of rock and stone everywhere, and after a second more Baekhyun could make out the flat surface in the far corner that he’d found the book waiting for him. Only now, with the proper light, he could see a second pedestal.

It was incredibly clear now, in the light, that someone had deliberately taken care to preserve the area. The book had been left for Baekhyun to find on purpose. 

“Look,” Baekhyun pointed, drawing Chen’s attention. “What is that?”

Chen followed Baekhyun over to the pedestal, remarking, “It’s a box.”

It truly was a box, the outside colored by water damage, but more important were the six symbols carved into the top.

“That’s yours,” Chen pointed out one of the symbols on the box. “And I think this is D.O.’s, and Sehun’s. Wait …why are there only six? There are twelve guardians.”

Baekhyun reached out to run his fingers over the indentations on the lid. Finding his own was easy, but Chen’s was not among them. In fact, none of the symbols belonging to anyone from M could be found on the box.

There was a soft hissing sound and the box cracked open.

Baekhyun froze, and so did Chen. Neither of them seemed to know what to do. Or how to proceed. 

“Well,” Chen said finally, urging Baekhyun. “It didn’t do that when I touched it, and it’s your symbol on the box. Not mine.” Instinct made Baekhyun pull at his clothing until he could see the symbol on his skin blazing brightly, matching the one on the box lid. “Open it.”

Bakehun cracked the lid open and he was rewarded with the sight of six, nearly identical orbs half the size of his fist, all of them nestled in a soft cradle of cloth. Each bore a different symbol and color.

“What are these?” Chen asked. 

“I don’t have a clue.” But Baekhyun could feel himself being pulled towards the orb with his symbol on it. His fingers couldn’t be stopped and before he could think about the consequences of his actions, he was picking the object up, reveling in how it felt lighter than air, almost as if it wasn’t in his grasp at all.

“Baekhyun,” Chen said worriedly. “Are you getting brighter?”

Baekhyun looked down at himself. In general, whenever he used his ability it seemed to reflect back on him a bit to give him a certain sort of glow. That normal glow was currently getting brighter. It was already brighter than Baekhynn had ever seen, and didn’t seem to be stopping.

“What’s going on?” Baekhyun asked, panic starting to set in.

“Stop it,” Chen urged, taking a step back. “Baekyhun. You’ve got to turn it down.” Chen was shielding his eyes as he spoke.

“I can’t,” Baekhyun gasped out. “I can’t, Chen.”

Chen reached almost desperately for him, but the second their skin connected there was a flash of lightening, and then it was raining electricity on them. Baekhyun screamed, his own voice mingling with Chen’s, and then white light took them over completely.


	19. Sehun

Technically Sehun knew he didn’t have a curfew. Generally speaking most people, barring a party (though M did seem to have an exorbitant amount of them), went to bed before midnight. And the night watch started its patrol right around that time. But there was nothing that said Sehun had to adhere to any kind of timetable, and that was of great help at the moment. 

Because he needed to see the palace’s head physician and he needed to do it as covertly as possible.

Although nothing, as Sehun was becoming increasingly familiar with, ever went according to plans. And the palace’s infirmary, which should have been deserted, save for a couple of sleeping patients, was lit up and filled with exactly two people.

“Don’t look so disappointed to see me,” Xiumin said.

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” Sehun rushed to respond. In fact he had not been expecting to find the doctor he’d been seeking, bent over Xiumin’s knee as the solider sat on a high bed and leaned back on his hands. “Are you hurt?”

“Sort of.” Xiumin gestured to his sun tanned leg where a series of angry looking black stitches stood out. There was a accumulation of blood surrounding them that made Sehun feel a little nauseous at just the sight of. “I went to visit my parents, and my brother and sister-in-law the other day. They just had a baby and I wanted to pay my respects to my new nephew. I just forgot that my niece recently started walking, and I ended up tripping over her. Ripped my leg open just under the knee and probably traumatized her for years. I pulled the stitches about half an hour ago on accident. I’m just getting the wound looked at.”

The doctor made a clicking sound with his tongue and wiped the blood away with a clean, sanitized cloth. “You’ll be happy to know that the stitches themselves seem to be intact, if a little aggravated. You’ll be sore for a while in the area, but you’re fine.”

“Thanks,” Xiumin said, hopping off the high bed. “I’m going to go to bed now.”

Sehun made a face. “Shouldn’t you go lurk around Luhan or something?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as rude as it did, but he did mean the words. In the time that Sehun had been at the palace in both an official and unofficial capacity, he’d barely seen Xiumin leave Luhan’s side. There were plenty of guards in the palace, the palace itself was probably safer than any place in M or K, not to mention Luhan himself was extremely powerful and capable. So Sehun didn’t really see the point of having Xiumin constantly following Luhan around.

Fortunately, Xiumin didn’t seem to take his words badly, and he said, “Luhan’s gone to bed already. He might have only woken up today, but whatever he went through left him pretty tired. It might have been acceptable for me to watch over Luhan while he slept before, but it isn’t any more. He’s married now and that duty falls to the king, and Tao, who I guarantee you is pacing outside their bedroom door as we speak.”

“Oh,” Sehun said.

Xiumin continued, “And I lurk around him, as you so eloquently said, because that’s my duty. Regardless of his majesty’s marital status, he’s my charge. He is my duty, and I take my duty very seriously. It goes hand in hand with my honor. But furthermore, Luhan is my friend. My best friend. He’s been my friend for far longer than a decade and protecting my friends is just what I do. I value my friend’s lives over whatever I might look like protecting them.”

Sehun hated how much embarrassment was flushing through him. 

“You’re free to go,” the doctor said, patting Xiumin on the shoulder. Then he turned to Sehun and asked, “Is there something I can help you with, Ambassador Oh?”

It always grated under his nerves a little to hear his official title. It was a title that didn’t quite feel he’d earned, and more like Commander Suho had given it to him in a desperate bid to pacify everyone. Maybe just to pacify Luhan. Sehun didn’t think it was lost on anyone that next to the king, Luhan held the second most power in M.

“Ah, yes.” Sehun cleared his throat and brushed past Xiumin to step closer to the doctor. He let his voice drop low and said, “I was told by Lay that the palace morgue is kept here?”

The doctor tapped the floor under them. “There’s a separate set of rooms used for examination of the dead for determination of death. We keep the bodies there, until burial. It’s directly underneath us.”

“I need to see a body,” Sehun said, focused on keeping his tone even. “It would be the body of a young girl, recently brought in from the countryside. She would have died from something extremely unusual.”

The doctor returned kindly, “The only bodies we keep down there, son, are those of the palace soldiers and staff who happen to die while in the line of service, for whatever reason. Bodies from the countryside are not brought to the palace.”

“You’ve got four bodies down there of people who didn’t die in the palace,” Sehun said. Then he brought his hand up to reveal the ring that was fitted awkwardly on his index finger. It was the king’s seal, the king’s personal ring, and Lay had given it to him a little reluctantly, making him swear on his life to not let it out of his sight. He’d be expected to give it back the next day, but for the time being it was a master key, getting him in and out of anywhere he wanted. “I have the king’s permission, and I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

The doctor grumbled, “This is unexpected,” but led Sehun down one level to the room where the bodies were kept.

“This is the girl,” The doctor said, reaching into a cooling unit for a handle, then pulling out the slab she was kept on. “The other three are male. They’re just over there. What exactly are you looking for? I can’t imagine you would be interested in looking at a body for any reason, Ambassador Oh.” The doctor paused before the body was pulled out more than a few inches, only the feet visible. “This isn’t the kind of thing a young man should see.”

“I know what I’ll be seeing,” Sehun said, steeling himself for the reveal. “I know what kind of condition she’s in.”

“Aright.” The doctor gave a hard pull and suddenly the girl’s nude body was out in plain view.

Sehun gave a startled jump and began coughing in revulsion. He kept a hand covering his mouth and nose as his eyes watered.

The sight in front of him was horrific, and nothing like he’d ever seen before. He had read about the kind of condition she’d be in, and heard about it from Lay as well, but this was ….

“Cause of death?” Sehun could barely ask.

The doctor pursed his lips in thought, then said, “Likely everything.”

“Huh?” Sehun drew his eyes away from the body. “Everything?”

The girl barely looked like a girl anymore. The form was there, but all of her hair had wilted away, almost with some of her facial features. Her skin was nothing but sticky looking ash, and if Sehun reached out to touch it, he was afraid it would crumble beneath his fingers. Some of her bones were exposed, and she smelled like sulfur. In some ways she looked like a burn victim, but there were oddities in the patterns of blackness across her skin, and the way her skull was partially caved in.

“Organ failure, if I had to pin it down,” the doctor decided. “Heart failure. Lung failure. Heavy brain damage. Take your pick, Ambassador. Regardless, this girl died a very painful, very cruel death.”

What terrified Sehun the most was the confirmation of what he’d most feared. When Lay had set him up in front of the medical section he’d been initially bored, and hadn’t taken his task very seriously. But as he’d started to browse through the titles, and eventually read some of the material, he realized the severity of what Lay had him looking for.

And what he now had in front of him, this girl, who probably looked exactly like the three other men in the morgue, was the mirror of one specific text he’d read and nearly wet himself over.

“Doctor,” Sehun said a little breathlessly, “this girl had an ability, right?”

“All four did.”

“Okay.” Sehun ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

“Ambassador.” The doctor stopped him with a heavy, worried look. “Can I expect to have a greater influx of bodies into my morgue?”

“I don’t know,” Sehun said, but he wasn’t being honest. He knew exactly what the answer was. “But I think the king’s already sworn you to secrecy, so I don’t have to ask you not to tell anyone about what we just saw.”

“Is it contagious?” That caught Sehun off guard, especially when the doctor pressed again, “Am I at risk to catch whatever this is?”

“I--”

“I don’t care about myself,” the doctor rushed to add. “But I spend a good deal of time around my grandchildren. I can’t risk giving whatever this is to them.”

It was still unclear how much the king and Lay and the others involved wanted people know about what was going on, even trusted people like the palace’s most senior doctor, but Sehun couldn’t help himself in replying, “Are any of your family members gifted?”

“No.” The doctor shook his head. “My eldest son was, but he died a while ago.”

Carefully, Sehun replied, “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

But was that really the truth?

Sehun left the infirmary with a heavy heart, trying to fight back chills over what he’d just confirmed. He needed to speak to Lay. He needed to speak to Luhan or the king or someone with authority. But it was late, well past midnight, and it would have to wait until morning. 

He was almost to his room, feet dragging when his eyes caught the flickering forms of two people, hands clasped. They were mostly in the shadows of the night, streaking across a nearby hallway. Sehun still wasn’t familiar with the complete layout of the palace, and probably wouldn’t ever be in the way that Luhan or Xiumin were, but it looked like the two were headed down towards the queen’s gardens.

Luhan had shown him the gardens once, explaining that they had been the king’s mother’s, and that she had cultivated them from almost nothing into the huge space that was there now. There was a manageable hedge maze, plenty of places to picnic, and every variety of flower that grew on Exo. The palace gardeners kept it up now, as Luhan had no interest in the garden at all, but the space was supposed to be a sacred place.

And now two people who were likely not supposed to be together, were heading off to make out. Or worse. Sehun only guessed they weren’t supposed to be together because M had odd standards of propriety, and who was acceptable for who. M had official courting, too, which seemed crazy in Sehun’s opinion. 

But who was Sehun to pass judgment? 

Sehun likely would have let the entire matter go if he hadn’t recognized the second person’s outline in the poor lighting, highlighted by the ring on the man’s finger that gleamed no matter the visibility. The king-consort’s ring.

It was Luhan. It was most certainly Luhan who’d just passed ahead of him, pulled along by another tall man who strode with confident steps.

But Luhan was supposed to be in his bed. Asleep. Xiumin had said as much, and Sehun really severely doubted that Xiumin would lie about such a thing. Or that Xiumin would lie about Luhan at all. Not with how serious he took his duty.

That said, Sehun also didn’t think that Luhan was in any danger. After all, he’d been going willingly with the man leading the way.

Maybe Luhan was with the king. It had been hard to properly judge the man who’d been by his side. He’d been tall, but that was about all Sehun was sure about. Maybe the king and Luhan were going out for a little peace and quiet. They didn’t seem overly romantic, and they were very much not in love with each other, but it was possible. Even people who were not in love, could enjoy moments with each other.

The proper thing to do probably was just to go back to his room. Luhan hadn’t been screaming or fighting, and it was none of Sehun’s business what Luhan was doing. But he just couldn’t let it go. 

So he followed as silently as he could, staying as far back as he dared.

They were going out into the garden. Sehun had only a slight amount of time to process that before Luhan was taking the lead, pulling the other man through the main entrance of the maze.

In only a short few minutes Sehun lost them. The maze was probably difficult enough to navigate during the day, but at night, with only the barest of lighting, he was more feeling his way than seeing it. Luhan obviously knew where he was going, but Sehun did not. 

He was just about to give up, and desperately try and retrace his steps, when he heard, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

A few more steps forward and Sehun realized he’d found them after all, and they were at the heart of the maze. The space was pretty big, big enough at least to house a sizable fountain, and lit by a series of electric lanterns. 

Ducking back a little to avoid being seen, Sehun squinted. He could see Luhan sitting on the edge of the fountain, his fingers trailing absently into the clear water. And in front of him, reaching a hand out to brush the fringe against Luhan’s forehead was …

This was nothing but trouble. Big trouble. Because Sehun was absolutely sure that he could identify the other man as Kai.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

Kai flashed a dazzling smile. “Now where have I heard that one before?”

Luhan was dressed in a night coat, but Sehun could easily make out his pajamas underneath. Kai was dressed substantially better, but Sehun knew neither of them should have been out so late, and certainly not together. Not with their history. Sehun was sort of starting to understand why M encouraged chaperones with couples. At least in some cases.

“I mean it,” Luhan said tersely.

“I was scared,” Kai said, his voice strong. It was a clear indicator that he believed they were alone and safe. “You were caught in some sleep you couldn’t wake up from, and I couldn’t get in to see you. Do you have any idea how crazy out of my mind I was with worry?”

“I was okay,” Luhan said, reaching up to tug Kai’s hand away. He didn’t let it go, however, linking their fingers. “I’m always okay. You know that.”

“One of these times you won’t be,” Kai argued back, and Sehun seconded that. When Luhan had eventually woken up, sitting up in bed easily and startling each and everyone of them in the room at the time, Sehun had felt a sense of relief in his chest like none other. Baekhyun had woken much sooner than Luhan, and hadn’t been able to offer any help as to what was happening and why. They’d all been simply hoping for the best, not sure what to do.

If Luhan hadn’t been okay, Sehun wouldn’t have been either.

“And don’t say you didn’t get to see me,” Luhan said, startling Sehun out of his thoughts. “You came. I have proof.”

“Oh?” Kai asked, quirking an eyebrow. “What kind of proof?”

“The flowers.” Luhan used his free hand to splash some water up playfully. “No one else would have been able to bring me those Midnight Blooms. They’re our flower. Xiumin thought Kris brought them, and Tao thought it was Sehun. But I knew it was you the moment I woke up. They were the first thing I saw.”

It was so very wrong that Luhan and Kai were without a chaperone, so many things were bound to happen that shouldn’t have had the chance, but Sehun couldn’t deny the chemistry between the two of them. They way they looked at each other, and the electricity between them was undeniable. 

Kai said, “You remember that day we found the whole field of them? The entire ground was blue. It was blue for miles. Still to this day, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I remember,” Luhan said with a grin, letting Kai pull him up to his feet. “We laid down on our backs and stared up at the sky for what felt like forever. You held my hand, and that was the day you told me that you loved me for the first time.”

Kai returned the smile. “I made love to you in that field.”

Sehun felt like an interloper. He wanted to leave, to give them the privacy they thought they had, but it was so hard to get his feet moving. He seemed rooted in place.

“I was never more in love with you than in that exact moment,” Luhan confided. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell you that back then.”

They were going to kiss. Sehun was certain of it. Kai was leaning in and Luhan was … ducking away.

“Kai,” Luhan said sternly, releasing his grip on Kai’s hand. “You know we can’t.”

Sehun let out a breath of relief, and that relief startled him. At first he’d assumed that the relief had been due to Luhan’s marital status, and the scandal their being caught would cause. But with a bit more thought, he realized a little shamefully that he was relieved because he didn’t want Luhan to be kissed at all. At least not by anyone but Sehun himself.

Sehun was very, very unfortunately aware of his growing feelings for Luhan. But he reasoned with himself that there was no way he couldn’t have ultimately ended up with a crush on Luhan. Luhan was beautiful and intelligent and kind hearted. He was a good listener, patient and understanding. Not to mention loyal. He was all the things Sehun wanted in a partner, and infatuation was quickly turning into something more.

“Fine,” Kai said, turning away.

“Don’t be like this,” Luhan said right away. “We agreed--”

“I know what we agreed!” Kai’s voice rose, maybe to dangerous levels. “I know, okay. I know.”

“Then why are you angry?” Luhan rounded him to stand directly in front. 

Kai wondered, “How can I not be angry? I’m desperately in love with you. And you’re married to someone else.”

Luhan’s shoulders slumped. “I married Kris because I needed my country to be stable enough to accept the end to a war that some of them have known for the better part of their lives. I married him because I’ve always been expected to marry him, and I know what an obligation is.” When Kai gave a gruff huff, Luhan hurried to say, “The only thing that should matter is that I didn’t marry him because I’m in love with him. You know I’m in love with you.”

“Then say it,” Kai urged.

Luhan sighed. “Why did you wake me up? Why did you pull me out of bed? You know Commander Suho had Kris’ correspondence. You knew I was up and awake and no worse for wear. If you knew that we were going to end up talking about the same things that hurt us in the same way, why did you even bother?”

A gasp escaped Sehun, quite of its own volition, the second that Kai reached out and tugged Luhan into a fiercely passionate kiss.

There was a burst of jealously in Sehun’s chest, but quickly it gave way to appreciation. They were so in love. They were almost desperately in love, and it was evident in the way they were kissing. There was no mistaking the way Kai cradled the back of Luhan’s head as he deepened the kiss, or the way Luhan’s fingers clenched and unclenched sporadically. 

Just as Luhan was pushing up into the kiss, and Kai’s hands were starting to wander along Luhan’s hips, Sehun’s ears picked up a soft whistle. 

Apparently Luhan’s did as well, and he pulled away, lips glossy from the kiss and his eyes wider than usual. “That’s the shift change whistle,” Luhan said, taking a deep breath. “I have to get back. Tao’s been known to check in on Kris and I when the first shift change of the night happens. If he finds me missing all hell will break loose.”

“Luhan.” Kai reached for him, but immediately Luhan was moving away, shaking his head.

“That kiss was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t,” Kai denied. “It is never a mistake when we kiss. Luhan, I would do anything, and I mean anything for us to be together. I love you. I am in love with you. And I can’t just stay away. I can’t. I’ve been trying but it isn’t working. I’m just making myself crazy.”

Luhan asked, “What’s the alternative? We sneak around? I’m unfaithful to my husband and you risk putting K in a bad situation again? How is that fair to us? Or right?”

“Do you want me?”

The blunt question threw Sehun. It was only then that he realized how much he was clinging to every word spoken, and the situation at large. 

“You know I do,” Luhan said, no hesitation. “I want to wake up with you every morning, and go to bed with you each night. I am deeply and undeniably in love with you, and you should never doubt that. But being in love with someone doesn’t mean you get to be with them. Sometimes, just having that love has to be enough.”

Kai took an audibly deep breath and then released it. “Do we ever get to be together? Is it ever just me and you?”

Luhan put his hands on Kai’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to Kai’s forehead. “I love you very much, Kai. But I have to go back now. I have to go back to my husband, and you have to go back to K, before anyone realizes either of us is gone.”

“Okay.” The look of defeat on Kai’s face made Sehun’s gut clench up. “Give me your hand and I’ll teleport you back into your bedroom. No one will ever know you were gone, least of all your husband. He sleeps like the dead, you know. But that’s probably a good thing.”

Sehun breathed a bit easier as the moment was over, but just as he turned to leave, he heard Luhan said, “And for the record, because you have always respected the content of my visions, and what I choose to both share and not share with you, I have had visions that pertain to our future. The things we do now are constantly changing that future, and I don’t really understand it myself, but I have seen some possibilities. And yes, in some of them, we get to be together.”

Sehun moved away before he heard any kind of response. His mind was heavy with the uncompromising truth that Luhan’s heart would always belong to Kai. But in some other way, one that he wasn’t completely sure he understood, he was relieved. 

It was another half hour before he found his way out of the maze, getting turned around several times in the process, but when he got back to his room he was substantially sleepy, and was able to fall asleep relatively easily. 

It wasn’t hard to get everyone together the following day. Well, easier than expected, considering the king’s time was in high demand and it was more than a little inconvenient for Kai to ferry people back and forth with his ability. But he had to share what he had learned with everyone, and there was no getting around the importance.

As they gathered together, the twelve of them still a little awkward around each other, Sehun wasted no time in explaining what Lay had asked him to look into.

“You’re all aware by now of the … illness that’s been spreading?” Sehun questioned. “The one only striking those with Mama’s gifts?”

Commander Suho cleared his throat and stood, announcing, “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but there have been six accounts of this in K so far, and with your four, that makes ten total. Ten is a suspiciously high number when the only people being targeted are those who have gifts.”

With narrowed eyes, Lay asked, “Were any of these six people those have recently been near or in the Deadlands?”

Grimacing, Suho said, “All six, coincidentally.”

“Then we need to investigate this,” Chen said, sitting up in his chair a bit more sternly. “There were already plans to send some of us out to check the area. This just presses the matter.”

“But we have abilities,” D.O. argued. “That would place us in danger.”

“Would you rather we just ignore whatever is happening?” Luhan challenged.

“Hold up!” Sehun gave a loud whistle, raising his hands. “I need to say this. I found something important.”

The king gave him a stead nod. “Go ahead.”

Sehun moved to stand in front of the rest of his peers, making sure he had their full attention. Then he said, “Lay had me looking into some texts that he suspected might have information that could help us.” He intentionally left out mentioning the archives, and where they were located. Lay hadn’t explicitly asked him not to say anything, but Sehun got the feeling he also didn’t want it public knowledge. 

“And?” Kai prompted. “You found something?”

“I did,” Sehun verified with a nod. “If you’ll recall, there have been people born with abilities stretching back to almost the beginning of our recorded texts. Sometimes there were a lot, and sometimes there were only a couple. In one particular instance, no one was born with an ability for over a generation.”

Luhan said, “That’s true. But we’ve never understood why, or for that matter, why some of us are born with gifts, and some are not.”

“I found some interesting information about that,” Sehun continued. “The generation before there were no people with abilities born, there was a plague. A lot of people died and they died in a very specific way.”

“Let me guess,” Xiumin said. “Black patches of illness on the skin that spread until the person died.”

“Got it in one.”

“But why haven’t we heard about this before?” the king challenged. 

Sehun reminded, “This plague, and the generation that followed, happened a long time ago. Before the Forbidden City existed. Back when technology was at its barest, and before we had the recording techniques that we have today. But there’s no doubt, the illness that’s referenced in a book Mama drew Lay to, began by targeting only those with abilities, before moving on to the general public a few months later. When the new generation was born, from those who survived, they were the first generation to be born without any of Mama’s gifts. It wasn’t until they had children, that the abilities began to manifest again.”

Kai tapped his chin. “Luhan, you’re always going on about Mama being this sentient being. Are we therefore concluding that these shadows who are a threat to both her and us, are also sentient? Because if I were trying to get to Mama, and I was having trouble, I’d take out the guardians who were supposed to be protecting her, before anything else.”

Slowly, Luhan admitted, “The thought has crossed my mind. Mama is weakening, but she’s still protected. We’re less so.”

“Then we put it to a vote,” the king said, standing. “We vote on going out to the Deadlands to look for proof of these shadows, and to investigate if this is the origin of this new illness.”

Suho chimed in, “If we find a correlation between these shadows and the illness, we need to be prepared to take action. For right now it looks like the illness is attacking people with abilities indiscriminately, but there’s no way to know for sure. But it’s true going out there is bound to be dangerous, maybe even life threatening if some of us go. So we vote, because when we’re in this room, and we’re talking about protecting our future, there are no distinctions between us. We’re all even, we’re all equal, and we all have a say.”

Immediately Tao raised his hand, saying, “I’m in favor of going to check the Deadlands for proof. It might be dangerous, but we’re all that’s standing in front of Mama and protecting her at this moment. We have to do something, because if this illness is anything like the one that hit before, all of us with abilities will be dead within a few weeks, and a good deal of the general public will follow shortly after.”

Surprisingly, though Sehun knew they all understood the severity of the situation, everyone raised a single hand. They were in perfect agreement, which was probably more than any of them could dare to hope for.

“It’s agreed then,” the king said. “But who will volunteer to go? It’s unlikely that myself or Commander Suho will be able to do so.”

“I’ll go ,” D.O. said, nodding to the king. “Kai can come with us, in case we get into trouble and have to make a hasty retreat.”

Kai arched an eyebrow. “Thanks for that.”

Baekhyun and Chanyeol were also confident enough to volunteer themselves. “Four might seem like a lot,” Chanyeol defended, “but we might run into trouble, and the extra backup might pay off. Just in case.”

Personally, Sehun thought it simply came down to Chanyeol and Baekhyun not wanting to let the other out of their sight, but Chanyeol’s logic was sound enough.

“If that’s settled,” Luhan said with no small amount of relief in his voice, “Then I want to go to the Forbidden City.”

“What?” the king demanded, turning to look at him.

Luhan corrected, “I want to go back. I’m very aware that Tao and Kai have already gone. And whether you believe they experienced some shared hallucination or not, I truly believe that they made contact with Mama. She asked for me, after all.”

Slowly, realization dawning on Tao, he said, “Oracle, right? Mama, or the representation of Mama that Kai and I saw, kept asking why we hadn’t brought the Oracle with us. You are the Oracle.”

“Mama’s called me that before,” Luhan revealed. “She’ll often call me Oracle. She calls Baekhyun a Scribe. Some of you are Keepers. Others are Witnesses. I haven’t worked out all the different categories she’s sorted us into, or what they mean exactly, but I’m meant to go to the Forbidden City. That much is very clear.”

“And it’s very not safe,” the king said, letting his hand cover Luhan’s in the only show of affection Sehun thought he’d ever seen them share. Aside from a couple spins around the dance floor. “I can’t let you go there.”

“Neither can you stop me,” Luhan said unabashedly. “My connection to Mama has always been strong, until very recently, of course. As she’s weakened, I’ve weakened with her. But more importantly, it’s gotten harder for her to communicate with me. She sends me desperate visions because she doesn’t know how to get through to me, but those visions hurt, and I can’t take many more. But Tao, he and Kai ran across a form of Mama who was able to communicate with them. If I go, I could speak with her, and we’d have our answers.”

Tao interjected, “She was speaking, and we were hearing, but she wasn’t making much sense. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was acting more like an artificial intelligence, than our creator. She was glitched in a way, and that’s not the worst of it.”

Kai took his cue, telling Luhan, “What happened at the end of our very short visit, was not good. Something bad was happening, something she didn’t expect, and she flung us away. We got tossed out of that dream or vision or alternate reality or wherever we were, and not gently, either. I was barely able to get a lock and get myself and Tao out of there the minute we were awake. Even if you go to the Forbidden City, Mama might not be there anymore. Or able to contact you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Luhan said, and Sehun believed him. “I have to go anyway. I’m going. No matter what any of you say.”

“Luhan,” the king said warningly. 

“Kris.” Luhan’s voice dropped low. “Mama was asking for me. She needs me. And I don’t want to end up twitching on the floor, coughing up blood because she needs to communicate with me and she had no other way. I … I am being very honest with you in this regard. I don’t think I can take another vision. Things are different now. Trust me.”

The dark look on Kris’ face was borderline furious. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to,” Luhan said simply. “Just respect my choice to go.”

The king was stubborn when it came to Luhan. That was what Sehun had learned about him more than anything else, but even Sehun didn’t know how the king was going to deny Luhan. Especially when Luhan had more than enough power to force his way.

“You take Xiumin,” the king said, unflinching in his ultimatum. “If you go, you have to take Xiumin. And Lay.”

“Thank you,” Luhan said softly.

“Last order of business,” Suho announced, motioning towards Baekhyun. “We need to discuss what was found by Baekhyun and Chen a few days ago.”

“Will this explain why Baekhyun is all lit up?” Luhan asked.

The bright gleam to Baekhyun’s exposed skin was something that Sehun had been doing his best to ignore. He knew that something had happened, something when he and Chen had gone to explore the cave that the book had originally been found in, but he didn’t know what that something was. Regardless, there was a soft, almost luminescent glow to Baekhyun’s skin that made him look radiant and unearthly.

“Somewhat,” Suho said, bringing a fair-sized box to the front of the room, next to where Sehun was standing. “This is what Chen and Baekhyun found.” Suho opened the box and Sehun could see five perfectly round orbs nestled in soft cloth. 

“Each has a symbol on it,” Baekhyun explained. “I saw my symbol on one of them and reached for it. The second I touched it I lost control of my ability. It amplified without any extra effort on my part, and I couldn’t stop it. I was just along for the ride.”

Chen added, “I touched Baekhyun while this was happening and I felt his power surge through me. And then I lost control, too.”

Baekhyun gestured to the open spot. “A few minutes after I touched the orb with my symbol on it, it shattered into a million tiny pieces. 

“There are only six,” Tao said with a frown. “Or five now. Which six symbols?”

“Mine,” Bekhyun answered him. “Commander Suho’s is also here, along with Chanyeol’s, Kai’s, Sehun’s and D.O.’s.”

“Why only six?” Tao wanted to know. “There are twelve supposed guardians.”

Baekyhun reminded, “This box was hidden. Even from me. And yes, there are twelve guardians. So if we have six orbs here, chances are there are six more still hidden.”

Luhan stepped closer to take a better look at the give remaining objects. “Then the purpose of these orbs is to boost our power?”

“To give us a fighting chance to defend Mama?” Baekhyun supposed.

“Temporary or more?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “Too soon to tell, but the spike in my ability is exceptionally great. Maybe even worriedly so. It hasn’t faded yet, either, no matter how hard I’ve been trying to get it to.”

Luhan reached out to touch Baekhyun, but stopped short. “Which of my abilities would spike if I touched you?”

“I don’t want to risk any of them,” Baekhyun returned. “Don’t touch me, okay? Don’t risk it.”

“But what if--”

Baekhyun shook his head. “I’ve thought this through.”

It was odd watching Luhan interact with Baekhyun. They seemed to understand each other with only the fewest of words spoken. They were obviously connected, but the level seemed to be profound in a lot of ways, and beyond everyone else’s comprehension.

“I’m going to the Forbidden City,” Luhan said, rounding back on the rest of them with his jaw set. “I’m going to speak with Mama. I will get us answers about this illness. I promise.”

“That isn’t the worst of our problems right now,” Baekhyun insisted, holding up a glowing hand. “This is.”

Sehun could see the fear flash across Luhan’s face. 

Luhan voiced in agreement, voice cracking, “You’re right. You’re all lit up like a beacon. A beacon, Baekhyun. You’re in terrible danger.”

Chanyeol shot out, “What kind of danger?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Baekhyun said, but it was clear he wasn’t so sure.

“What kind of danger!” Chanyeol demanded.

Luhan pursed his lips for a moment, then said, “The shadows will instinctively be drawn to Baekhyun now, even more than before. He’s essentially a homing beacon. It’ll be enough to draw them out from where they’ve been hiding. They’ll be on the move.”

Carefully, Chen inquired, “What’ll happen if they get to Baekhyun, with him like this?”

Luhan shuddered. “The same thing that’ll happen to us all if we don’t figure this out.”

Flatly, Baekhyun offered, “We’ll be eaten alive.”


	20. D.O.

The Deadlands were located almost an equal distance from K and M. 

Aside from the lost continent where the Forbidden City was located, the Deadlands were home to the only other place where absolutely nothing grew and no life survived. As far as D.O. knew, people kept trying to make it out there, with the promise of free land and the chance to start from fresh, but it never worked out. Some still lived on the fringes, but it was inadvisable.

And now it was possible that the Deadlands were killing people. Literally killing people.

“Is anyone else getting a really bad feeling?” Chanyeol asked, standing shoulder to shoulder with Baekhyun.

“If by bad feeling,” Kai responded, “you mean I might be getting sick sometime very soon, then you’re right. Because my stomach is upset and it’s threatening to revolt.”

D.O. gave a soft nod. He understood the feeling. They weren’t more than a few feet into the area designated as the Deadlands, and already his stomach was churning. And the survival instinct groomed into him by the war, was screaming at him to get out of there. 

“What exactly are we looking for?” Baekhyun asked. 

D.O. couldn’t help looking at him. He knew that both Baekhyun and Luhan had theorized, or at least hoped, that the glow to Baekhyun’s skin would wear off with time. But it had been several days now since Baekhyun had come into contact with the orb containing his symbol. And he was still glowing.

If anything, the positive to the event was that he was more powerful than he’d ever been. Not that D.O. had ever seen Baekhyun use his ability before. For the longest time D.O. had harbored a secret belief that Baekhyun wasn’t gifted by Mama at all. He and Baekhyun were friends, but they weren’t that close, and it was hard to believe someone who claimed something with no proof.

There was more than enough proof now. Enough to make D.O. feel guilty. 

“Maybe the genesis of whatever this illness is,” Kai said, looking every bit like he’d rather be accompanying Luhan to the Forbidden City, and not stuck in the Deadlands. “And try not to get infected ourselves.”

“That would be high on the list,” Chanyeol said.

Shortly after that they started an uneasy trek further into the barren area. D.O. kept near to Kai as he complained about feeling ill, and held back any comments he might have had himself. He’d volunteered to come out to the Deadlands because he wanted to feel useful. But he was starting to feel bad about bringing Kai along with him.

They’d been walking for around an hour when D.O. heard Chanyeol say quietly to Baekyhun, “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe for any of us,” Baekhyun returned.

Chanyeol argued, “Kai can take you back to the capital in less than a second. I feel uneasy having you here.”

Their hands were linked together in a somewhat inconspicuous manner, and if D.O. hadn’t been watching them, he probably would have missed the gesture all together. He didn’t begin to understand what they saw in each other, they had radically different personalities to begin with, but when they were together, there was something that seemed natural. Maybe Baekhyun needed Chanyeol to spice up his life a little, and Chanyeol needed Baekhyun certainly for the balance he brought.

Chanyeol bumped his shoulder into Baekhyun’s. “You’re a beacon of light, and we know that the darkness is attracted to the light. We’re maybe going into their territory. That’s putting you in the kind of danger that makes me feel sicker than this place does.”

“And what if I stayed back?” Baekhyun challenged. “What if I went to the capital like this? I’d still be a danger to those around me, and I won’t put innocent lives at risk. I’d rather be out here, with you to watch my back.”

D.O. watched Chanyeol pull up Baehyun’s hand for a quick kiss to the skin. “Did I mention how awesome it is holding your hand like this?”

“You guys are making me sick,” Kai called out, hands anchored behind his head as he walked along. “Could you be any more domestic?” D.O. laughed at his friend’s words. There was no bite to them, and Kai obviously just enjoyed teasing them for the principle of it.

“Stop being jealous,” Chanyeol called over his shoulder. “Just because Baekhyun wants to hold my hand and give me an energy boost.”

D.O. couldn’t say that he hadn’t been tempted to pass by Baekhyun, accidentally brush their skin together, and get a boost of his own. He’d also been tempted to go for his designated orb several times. At least before Commander Suho put them under lock and key to dissuade anyone from attempting it. The draw to power was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

“Hey,” Baekhyun called out, pointing with his free hand. “Look ahead!”

Just over in the distance, maybe less than half an hour’s walk away, was a visible dip in the landscape. The path in front of them seemed to be leading to a valley. It looked an ominous place enough to look.

“Agreed?” Kai asked, looking among them.

Chanyeol gave a pull to Baekhyun’s hand and said, “Come on. The sooner we check this place out, the sooner we can go home.”

After they’d started walking again, the valley getting closer with every step they took, D.O. found himself sliding up next to Kai and apologizing softly, “I’m sorry I volunteered you to come with us. I know you didn’t want to.”

Kai shrugged, his hands in his pocket. “It’s for the greater good. And for the record, Baekhyun might feel better with Chanyeol watching his back, but I feel better watching yours.”

D.O. felt a rush of pleasure at their friendship. “But still. If I hadn’t forced you into this, you might have had a shot at getting to accompany the king’s husband. The king made him take an extra person in the end, didn’t he? On top of Lay and Xiumin.”

“Yeah,” Kai eased out, his voice going stale. “Chen was excused from his duties in K for Luhan’s trip to the Forbidden City. But I don’t think the king would have been all that happy with me going anyway. He might trust Luhan, but he doesn’t trust me.”

D.O. shook his head. “They’re married now. We should be beyond that. You know how to keep your hands to yourself when you have to.”

Something akin to a very guilty look flashed across Kai’s face and D.O. wanted to groan. 

“Define keeping my hands to myself.”

“Tell me you’re being careful, okay? Please. Kai.”

Kai pulled a hand from his pocket, Kai slapped it on D.O.’s shoulder. “I’m not doing anything to risk the peace between K and M. Anyway, Luhan won’t let anything happen between us anymore. Believe me. I’ve tried.”

“Then why do you seem so okay with the current situation? The person you claim to be in love with is married to someone else.” D.O. took a quick look ahead to make sure that both Chanyeol and Baekhyun were out of earshot. D.O. trusted Baekhyun with some secrets, but he was too loyal to Commander Suho to be trusted with anything about Luhan. At least anything that could potentially compromise Kai.

There actually was a little pep in his step as Kai said, “Luhan sees the future all the time. He said it changes all the time. And in at least one possibility, we’re together. We get to be together.”

“Just one?”

“One is enough,” Kai said confidently. “And between you and me, that’s the one I’m gunning for.”

They reached the low valley before the noon hour, and as they carefully made their way down the pathway, Chanyeol called out, “I don’t remember either King Kris or Commander Suho actually giving us orders about what to do if we find the bad guys here.”

D.O. called to him, “I think the universally acceptable behavior will be for us to take down any threat we come across. Right?”

Kai flashed them a thumbs up. “The last victim of what no one is calling the start of a potential plague among those of us with gifts, was twelve. I’m taking personal offense against a child being targeted. And if I find something to take down, I’m doing it. Regardless if we have orders or not.”

At the bottom of the black charred valley, and under the heat of the bright sun, D.O. could see a long fissure running along the cracked, broken ground. It seemed to stretch for around a quarter mile, and was gaping open in some areas.

“What is that?” D.O. asked, the lot of them keeping a respectable distance away. “It’s an opening, right?”

“In the ground,” Baekhyun said with a nod. “But I looked at the geological charts we have of this area right before we left. I remember seeing this valley on the charts, but not this.”

Chanyeol said, “Maybe the area has experienced some seismic activity lately. M’s been having earthquakes. K’s been having dust storms. Maybe the Deadlands have been getting some of that.”

“Alright,” Kai announced, turning to face the others. “I’ll go check it out. You three stay here until I give you the all clear.”

“Be careful,” D.O. said, feeling a spike of anxiety. “And get out of there if you get even the slightest bad feeling.”

Kai snorted, “Too late for bad feelings.”

With complete silence between them, they watched as Kai popped out of sight next to them, and reappeared in the distance, near the cracked opening. He could be seen peering down into the opening, pausing, and then he was waving at them, gesturing them over.

“What do you see?” D.O. asked as they made their way over to Kai. He wasn’t eager to take a look down the fissure himself. 

“Can’t see much,” Kai said simply. “That’s why we need Baekhyun.”

“Light it up?” Baekhun asked, holding up a fist, his fingers folding together in an even brighter show of his ability than normal. 

Baekhyun had said that he felt stronger than he ever had in his life, and D.O. believed him in the way he harnessed his ability so easily. But now he felt almost overwhelmed as light exploded everywhere, blinding them almost instantly.

“Sorry!” Baekhyun shouted. The light reeled back in a second later, still bright, but manageably more so. “The power is a little tricky to control.”

D.O. blinked harshly against the light, then grew accustomed to it. “Baekhyun,” he eased out, “You’re as bright as the sun.” And it was odd, but with Baekhyun exerting so much power, D.O. could feel the rumbling of his own spiking to life. He was clearly being effected by Baekhyun, and the others must have been too.

“Holy crap,” Kai said, jerking D.O.’s attention to him. “Shit.”

D.O. leaned over the edge of the fissure and looked down.

A normal fissure would have shown jagged, rocky edges where the earth had broken apart. And even with the light from Baekhyun, eventually it would have dissolved into a blackness too far down to make out anything in. But regardless, the inside would have been still, lifeless and quiet.

Voice at a whisper, Chanyeol asked, “Are you guys hearing what I’m hearing?”

Whispering. There was whispering, the harsh kind that made D.O. want to claw at his ears.

He didn’t know which was worse. The vile, terrifying whispering, or the mass of blackness moving in the fissure. It was best described as a blob, almost like jelly, and it was lapping up at the sides of the fissure in the ground.

“What the hell is that?” Kai asked D.O.. “What is that moving around?”

Chanyeol leaned as far over as he could manage. “Is the whispering coming from that thing?”

“I think so,” Kai said slowly. “But what is it?” 

“Darkness?” D.O. offered. “Shadows.”

“Don’t touch anything,” Baekhyun warned. He added, “In fact, I’ll breathe easier if you all take a step away.

D.O. wrenched is eyes way from the horrible sight in front of him and turned to Baekhyun. There was a question on the tip of his tongue when he froze, getting a better look at Baekhyun. 

“Don’t move,” D.O. said roughly, hoping the force in his voice would come through. He reached for Kai, pulling him around towards Baekhyun. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“What?” Baekhyun asked, genuinely unsure about what the commotion was.

“Chanyeol,” Kai hissed at him. “Look at Baekhyun.”

“You guys are scaring me,” Baekhyun said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

With a long finger, D.O. pointed down to Baekhyun’s feet. With the brightness from the sun and Baekhyun’s ability combined, they were all giving off strong shadows that mirrored them perfectly. Except for Baekhyun. Baekhyun had two.

Gritting his teeth, Kai commented, “Aren’t we all glad there are four of us here.”

“You’re a trouble magnet,” D.O. threw back at him.

“Guys!” Baekhyun shouted. “Focus. And get ready.”

D.O. had to jump back as Chanyeol burst into flames, his phoenix manifesting before their eyes and shooting up into the air. “Oh, I’m more than ready.”

The best thing about the lot of them, maybe more than any other group of people D.O. had ever worked with, was that they were a single, cohesive unit when they fought. They moved in perfect synch, sensing the actions of each other, and to a scary degree, they were flawless.

“I’m the bait!” Chanyeol shouted, and then he was raging even hotter than ever before, singeing some of the baby hairs along D.O.’s arm. 

“Got it!” D.O. rallied back, stamping his foot to the ground as hard as he could. He could feel it respond immediately to him, rolling them all into new positions. Fiercely concentrating, D.O. braced a hand down on the ground for better control, grinning as Baekhyun was flung up an off his feet with a surprised shout.

But Kai was there a second later, teleporting to his side, hooking an arm around Baekhyun’s waist and pulling him free from the shadow that had reared up into a somewhat solid form taller than the both of them.

“Chanyeol!” D.O. shouted, catching sight of movement from the fissure from the corner of his eye. “To your left!” 

In a matter of seconds they were surrounded by tall, semisolid forms of blackness. 

“Don’t let them touch you!” Kai said, dropping Baekhyun off near Chanyeol’s side.

“Wasn’t planning on it!” D.O. replied.

Chanyeol, as far as D.O. could tell, was absolutely magnificent. He was in his element, flinging fire and brimstone at their attackers. His phoenix soared around, sweeping down in low arcs to cut through the shadow forms with a screech. 

And the moment that Chanyeol and Baekhyun begun working together, boosting each other, using their abilities in tandem, the destruction was twice as effective. D.O. had never quite seen anything like it.

“Head’s up!” Kai said, pulling D.O. roughly to the side and teleporting them over fifty feet away. Where he’d been standing D.O. could see a shadow folding in on the spot. “Pay attention!”

“I’m fine,” D.O. shot back, a little embarrassed at losing his focus for a second. He reached down for his ability once more, bringing up a wall of dirt and ground to block the next shadow that attacked them.

It was even more evident as they fought that Kai was the most vulnerable of them all. He could easily teleport himself away and to safety, but he had almost no offensive capabilities. At least none that would be effective against this new enemy they’d never fought before. He was a sitting duck in a lot of ways, and that made D.O,’s stomach roll over a little. It was up to him to keep Kai safe, more than go on the offensive. 

The shadows, or whatever they seemed to be--formless figures shrouded in black, were starting to multiply. More were coming up from the fissure, and the ones that were already on the surface were easily breaking themselves apart into separate forms.

“We need a plan!” Kai shouted at Baekhyun. “You two need to light it up!”

Hadn’t Baekhyun and Luhan said once that the shadows were only susceptible to light? Baekhyun was all light, and Chanyeol was at least some form of it. It seemed like a decent plan to D.O..

“Keep them off our backs for a second,” Baekhyun requested, snatching at Chanyeol’s nearby hand, likely for a power boost. Initially D.O. had been convinced that Chanyeol was feeding off Baekhyun for the boost, but it looked now more like they were feeding each other.

Kai shot himself and D.O. over to near where Chanyeol and Baekhyun were stationed, yelling, “Make it fast. We’ll do what we can.”

It was easier said than done. Kai could move them around fast enough, diverting attention to themselves almost wholly, but D.O. was starting to feel fatigued, manipulating the ground for so long. And there was something nagging at the back of his mind every time he pulled at his ability. It felt much different to manipulate the Deadlands ground--harder, and it was straining him faster than normal.

“There they go,” Kai breathed out, Chanyeol’s fire sweeping out at the shadows, aided and pushed along by Baekhyun’s light.

The joy was short lived as a sudden shudder under their feet knocked Kai and D.O. down. Immediately D.O. shouted, “That wasn’t me!” He hadn’t been responsible for the violent shudder under them, but he could feel the ground straining and fighting to stabilize. Until it stopped shaking they couldn’t get up, no matter how hard D.O. tried.

“What’s going on?” Kai shouted. 

“Baekhyun!”

D.O. ripped his eyes over to the pair across the way and was just in time to see a shadow form speeding towards Baekhyun. Kai was too dazed to teleport fast enough hand D.O. felt himself seize up in fear.

But then Chanyeol was there, throwing himself at Baekhyun, knocking him out of the way and taking the blunt hit himself.

“Kai,” D.O. screamed, shaking at Kai’s arm, “we have to get over there. We have to get them and get out of here!” It had been a mistake to try and stay and fight. They were obviously in well over their heads and they were on the losing side of the battle. D.O. didn’t even know if it could be called a battle. The second they managed to down one of the shadows it reformed itself, usually doubling in number.

“You don’t have to tell me twice!”

The ground split open between them before Kai could do anything. D.O. barely managed to roll away in time, shouting an obscenity as more shadows leaped up from the ground, blocking himself from Kai.

“Chanyeol!” D.O. managed to sit up, using the ground to boost himself. He could just make out Baekhyun crouched over the still and silent form of Chanyeol.

There was nothing but sheer insanity around them, worse than any battlefield D.O. had seen, and so utterly confusing.

“D.O.!” Baekhyun called out for him, folded over Chanyeol almost desperately. “We need you!”

“What’s wrong?” D.O. called out, throwing up a wall of earth to protect himself from an incoming hit. He searched frantically for Kai but couldn’t see him. “Kai! Where are you!”

“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun screamed again, shaking Chanyeol who wasn’t responding. Of a bigger concern was the fact that his phoenix had disappeared, and the fiery bird had been providing the extra support they couldn’t afford to lose.

“I’m here!” Kai’s voice rang out from a bit away, and that was when D.O. realized Kai was literally pulling himself from the new fissure that had cracked open. He had a bright red, angry looking wound across his forehead, and appeared to be dazed, but he was moving and breathing and at least D.O. could be thankful for that..

“Are you okay?” D.O. asked, crawling his way to Kai, barely mustering up enough strength to use his ability to protect himself. He reached a hand out to Kai and pulled him fully up. Then he was shouting, “Chanyeol’s down! I don’t know what’s wrong with him. We have to get out of here.”

“I feel sick,” Kai ground out, and his eyes were unfocused.

D.O. caught his chin, bringing the dirt and dust around them to block out everything. He wouldn’t be able to hold it forever, and it was leaving both Chanyeol and Baekhyun to the wolves, but Kai had always been D.O.’s main priority. He always would be.

“What?” Kai asked with a wince, trying to pull away.

“You’ve got a concussion,” D.O. said definitively. “You can’t focus. Your eyes … damn.”

Weakly, Kai protested, “I’m okay.”

The shadows broke through the barricade a moment after that, sending D.O. sprawling out closer to Baekhyun and Chanyeol, and Kai away from the three of them.

“What’s wrong with Chanyeol?” D.O. asked, close enough for Baekhyun to hear him properly. Baekhyun was still light up brilliantly, and it was enough at the moment for the shadows to keep their distance. They were obviously drawn to him, almost obsessively, but they couldn’t get close enough to attack. If D.O. stayed close too, he was protected as well.

Kai appeared next to them almost awkwardly, collapsing down into the dirt with a gasp. He was breathing hard, sweating heavily and had his eyes closed.

“We need to get out of here,” Baekhyun said, his eyes wide with fear. “Chanyeol needs medical attention. And by the looks of it, so does Kai.” Baekhyun reached out to tap Kai’s cheek. “Are you with us still?”

“I’m good.” Kai pressed himself up to his elbows.

“My light won’t keep them at bay forever,” Baekhyun said. “I’m going to dim very shortly. They’re too strong. But I can hold them back long enough for Kai to get Chanyeol and you out of here, D.O..”

“Excuse me?” D.O. demanded. “We’re all getting out of here.”

Baekhyun shouted angrily, “Look around. We obviously woke something up. And I’m drawing them to me like moths to a flame. I can’t go back with you. At least not until I can get my ability to quiet down. If I go with you, I’ll just pull the shadows with me wherever I go, and that means risking innocent lives. I won’t do that. I want you three to go and leave me here.”

“Absolutely not!” D.O. protested right away. “We’re not leaving you behind!”

“And I’m not compromising Chanyeol’s safety!”

Kai gave a quiet groan and D.O. thrust a finger at him for Baekhyun to see. “Kai’s got a concussion. We’re just wasting time here. Who knows how long he’ll even be conscious.” 

“Leave me,” Baekhyun said, almost pleading. “I can’t let anyone get hurt because I’m a beacon. Luhan knows what to do if I die. He’ll be able to guide you all. He’s the Oracle. I’m only the Scribe.”

There was no other choice to be made, and as much as D.O. hated the idea that the end was coming, he knew it was the only option. “Kai!” He snapped his fingers in front of Kai’s face, drawing his attention. “We only have a few seconds left. Can you focus enough to get a lock on M’s palace? They have the superior medical center and they can help you and Chanyeol.” 

“I’m starting to lose it,” Baekhyun warned.

The shadows were managing to inch closer as D.O. reached over and placed Chanyeol’s limp hand in Kai’s loose grip. “Hold on tight to him. Don’t you let him go for anything, Kai. And get him back to the palace.”

Baekhyun flinched. “What about you?”

“Kai’s hurt,” D.O. reasoned with a resolute shrug. “He’s drained and at a disadvantage. The lighter his load to teleport the better. And don’t you think for one second that I’m willing to leave you here to die.”

“So you’ll stay and die with me?” Bakehyun demanded. “How does that make sense?”

“I don’t have any plans to die here, thank you very much.” Then, without giving Baekhyun any more room for disagreement, D.O. caught Kai’s chin in his hand and told him firmly, “Get the lock in your head. Get it and don’t let it go no matter what. Tell me when you have it.”

Kai squeezed his eyes shut, hand tightening around Chanyeol’s. Then he said, “Okay. I can see … Luhan’s room. The one with the tiles on the ceiling. The mosaic.”

That didn’t seem like the best place to teleport, but considering the concussion Kai had, and the familiarity with Luhan’s room, it was probably better than he should have dared to hope for. It would do.

“Good,” D.O. praised, taking a last long look at Kai. His plan certainly wasn’t to die, and he would fight until his last breath, but if something went wrong, now could be the last time he ever saw his best friend. The person that he loved more than anyone else in the world. The only person he’d ever trusted with all his secrets. His brother.

“Keep it locked,” D.O. urged. “And when you’re ready, go.”

“D.O.--” Kai tried, seemingly realizing who he’d be leaving behind.

“Go!”

D.O. swallowed down his fear as Kai and Chanyeol blinked out of view.

“Well,” Baekhyun said. “I hope you have a very good reason for doing that. Considering you told me your plan is not to die.”

The shadows were closer than ever as D.O. reached out and clasped Baekhyun’s hand in his own. “You and Chanyeol have been channeling your power between each other over the past few days, boosting one or the other, right? You can take from others, Bakehyun. It’s your second ability. The orb didn’t give you that ability, you already had it.”

Baekhyun startled, fear on his face. “I don’t--”

“Don’t be ashamed or afraid of what you can do,” D.O. barked out. “That ability is about to save our lives … hopefully. If you can do it. You can do it, right?”

There wasn’t time for D.O. to tell his friend how he’d worked out Baekhyun’s second ability. There wasn’t even time for them to mention it again. There was only the threat of death and the shadows closing in. 

Plus the desperate hope that Baekhyun would come through for them.

Baekhyun gave shaky a nod. “I’ve always been able to do it, but the orb has been helping. And anyone else who touches theirs is going to be able to do it for a short amount of time, too.”

“Then we’re going to make our final stand here. You’re going to take everything I have, and everything you’ve got, smash it together, and let off a light bomb. Yes, I know that sounds stupid, but we’re about to die here, and stupid is all we have.”

“That is stupid,” Baekhyun said bluntly. He squeezed D.O.’s fingers. “But it’s a good stupid. Let’s go for it.”

“And,” D.O. added, “if this works and we don’t completely end up killing ourselves, you might be burnt out enough to not draw those moths.”

Baekyhun arched an eyebrow. “Big, ugly, dangerous shadow moths.”

“Exactly.” D.O. cracked a smile. “So how about we get going?”

“This will hurt,” Bakehyun warned, surprising D.O.. “Chanyeol likes to pretend like it doesn’t when I draw from him, but I know it does. Or at the least you’ll feel some discomfort. Okay?”

Discomfort was an understatement. D.O. could feel it the second Baekhyun started to leech away his power. It burned down into his core and made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. It felt like everything that made him exactly who he was, was being stolen from him. Was this how normal people lived? Was this what it was to not have an ability?

“Cover your eyes,” Baekhyun whispered, and there was barely enough time to get his lids shut before the world was engulfed in a white inferno. 

The truth actually was, no matter D.O. had said about having no plans to die, that he’d kind of expected to. He’d figured going out in a blaze of glory, and if taking some of those shadow bastards with him was about the best he could do, then he was okay with that.

So to find himself alive, albeit feeling extremely weak, was a surprise.

His hand was still encapsulated by Baekhyun’s and he gave it a soft squeeze the second he had the energy for it, feeling like he’d been sick for a long time. Like he was just recovering, and even just being awake was a chore.

Baekhyun squeezed back.

“We’re alive.” 

D.O. barely recognized his own voice and gave a rough cough. 

“We are,” Baekhyun replied. “I think.”

Taking in a shuddering breath, the kind that only had him coughing again, he reluctantly voiced, “I think I’m blind. Baekhyun. I think your light blinded me.” It was only just begging to dawn on him that he couldn’t see anything. His eyes were open, he was blinking madly, but there was nothing in front of him but darkness. He was blind. 

Baekhyun was silent for a minute more, then said, “If you’re blind, then so am I.”

That flash of light and power from Baekhyun, with his own strength given freely, was the brightest thing D.O. had ever seen in his life. It had been brighter than when he’d been young and stared up at the sun, and a hundred times brighter than Chanyeol whenever his phoenix raged. The explosion had robbed him of his sight, but before that had happened, it had been breathtakingly beautiful.

“No, wait.” Baekhyun said, startling D.O. a little. “Let go of my hand for a second.”

D.O. had to fling his fingers out from Baekhyun’s, remarking, “I can barely feel my hand.” It was so hard to breathe, like the air was thin and getting worse by the second. 

“D.O.,” Baekhyun said, and D.O. could hear him moving around in the slightest. “Reach up.”

Without hesitation D.O. propelled a hand up, straining with the effort it took. And he met with … a hard surface.

Baekhyun gave a sudden laugh, sounding almost crazy. 

D.O. demanded, “What’s so funny?”

“We’re not blind,” Baekhyun said, laughing again. “We’re just underground. Can you feel what’s above us? That’s dirt. Compacted dirt.”

D.O. felt around, trying not to get his hopes up. But a few more seconds revealed that Baekhyun had been right. They were in some kind of air pocket, trapped underneath the ground.

It was D.O.’s turn to laugh as he said, “You’re right. You’re right. We can’t see anything because we’re completely cut off from topside.”

Baekhyun reasoned, “We must have shifted the ground completely underneath us when I unleashed the extent of my ability. And I’m willing to bet that your connection with the land is the only thing that saved us, creating this air pocket.”

“Small favors,” D.O. huffed out. He pushed harder on the ground above him, but it refused to budge even an inch. “We must be pretty deep. More than a couple of feet. That’s for sure.”

“Can you get it to move with your gift?”

D.O. didn’t have to try to know the answer already. He confessed, “I gave you everything I had. And by the way, it hurt like hell. I can’t even grab at my ability.” He said it like that for lack of a better way, because he could feel his connection to the soil under his skin like it always resided, but every time he tried to harness it, it slipped through his fingers like water. “It’s still there, I can feel it. I just can’t use it.”

Once more Baekhyun found his hand and held it tightly. “Better than me. I think … D.O., my ability might be gone completely. I can’t feel it. It’s like it was never there to begin with. I don’t have any light left, and I can’t even feel your power.”

“Don’t panic.”

“I’m not,” Baekhyun defended. “But it feels sort of like losing a limb. It’s more than uncomfortable.”

D.O. let himself relax against the dirt he was laying on. “So that sucks.”

“It does.”

“But we’re alive,” he reminded.

D.O. liked to imagine that Baekhyun was cracking a smile as he responded, “There is that. And that isn’t something small.”

When their air was starting to run thin, the affects being felt with every breath they drew in, they united to push up against the ceiling of their pocket with every bit of strength they had. Practically yelling at the effort, D.O. and Baekhyun eventually broke through, and blessed, beautiful sunlight beat down on them.

“Fresh air,” Baekhyun squeaked out, taking a deep breath. “Never smelled, tasted or looked this good.”

When they’d both pulled themselves free of the ground, the wake of Baekhyun’s destruction was something great to behold.

Baekhyun asked almost desperately, “Weren’t we down in a valley?”

They had been at least. They’d been lower than sea level for sure, with barren mounds of land surrounding them. But all of that was gone. Now they were on a flat, level terrain with no distinguishing landmarks.

“Where’d that fissure go?” D.O. inquired, searching the ground. They weren’t up for another fight in any way. “Where those shadows sprung up from.”

“It’s gone,” Baekhyun said. Then he cocked his head, and asked, “Do you think those shadows actually came from that crack? Or do you think they were just hiding down there?”

“I don’t know,” D.O. said with an honest shrug. “But I’m hoping they just thought they found the perfect place to hide. Because I looked down that fissure and it seemed to go on for ages. If that’s where they were coming from … they could be all the way down to the planet’s core.” It was a frightful idea, but it would also explain why the planet itself was experiencing so many extreme occurrences. And why Mama was so desperate. 

Baekhyun spun in a circle, looking around. “I think it’s gone, D.O. When that blast of power happened it upturned everything, and I think the fissure was covered up. We might have actually bought ourselves some extra time.” Certainly the shadows hadn’t been dealt with that easily, but time was something D.O. could believe they had. Even if it was only a bit.

“Okay,” D.O. said slowly, thankful at least for that much. “But look around. Take a long hard look around one more time.”

Baekhyun craned his neck. “What exactly am I looking for?”

“Well,” D.O. drawled out, “Or teleporter Kai isn’t with us anymore, and we’ve completely leveled the landscape around us. Which way did we come from? Which way is home?”

The silence on Baekhyun’s end was telling.

D.O. shielded his eyes against the sun and said, “We have to be really careful where we go from here. We’ll die wandering around the Deadlands if we go further in instead of out. We have no supplies and no protection from the sun.”

“We could just wait here,” Baekhyun said. “Kai could tell them roughly where we were.”

“He’ll tell them to look for a valley,” D.O. argued. “Nothing he tells them now will be of any use. They won’t be able to find us, and we can’t stay here hoping that they will. We have to help ourselves.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

D.O. made a face. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

Baekhyun tipped his head backwards, obviously trying to pinpoint the position of the sun. “Well, we need to figure it out fast. Because it’s going to get hotter very soon, and I’m willing to bet on my life that there are plenty more shadows hiding out here in the Deadlands. I don’t think I need to tell you we can’t take another hit like we just had.”

“I know,” D.O. sighed. 

“So lets get a plan going,” Baekhyun decided, hands on his hips. He paused a moment later, though, and questioned, “But first tell me how you knew I had a second ability. No one has ever been able to guess that, though I’ll admit it was completely out of control after my contact with the orb.”

D.O. nodded and wiped the back of his hand against his forehead, already sweating from the heat. “We get out of here and I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Now help me figure out which was is North. I’ve got an idea.”


	21. Xiumin

Xiumin did not have what one would call sea legs. In fact, discounting the ship he was currently traveling on, he’d been out in the ocean twice before. He’d gone once for mandatory swim tests, and another for Luhan’s fifteenth birthday. Xiumin had nothing against the ocean personally, no bad experiences to draw on, but the churning of the waves and the bobbing of the ship made him nervous. More nervous than their quickly approaching destination.

“Are you going to stand stoically up here the entire trip? The officers already think you’re just about the coolest thing they’ve ever seen, and now you’re about three second away from making them swoon.”

Xiumin turned to look over his shoulder, bracing his hands more firmly on the railing to the ship, and told Chen, “If this thing goes over, I want a fair chance at making it off alive. I can swim.” Of course the biggest hurdle, other than the current, was probably the fact that by a swimmer’s pace he was probably half a day away from the Forbidden City’s dilapidated harbor.

“Unlikely to happen,” Chen said, the wind pushing through his hair. “This is the king’s pride and joy of the fleet. She’s the best ship ever built in every way, including safety.”

Xiumin did have to give the ship an appreciative look. She was sleek and smooth and seemingly perfect in her design. K boasted a tiny naval fleet, probably not even enough ships to be called that, and M’s wasn’t all that much bigger, with only fifty ships ready to deploy at a moment’s notice, but this ship was clearly built for something other than combat. It was wicked fast and cut through the water easily. What was several days travel by vehicle to the Forbidden City, was less than a day on the ship.

Begrudgingly, Xiumin said, “I doubt the king would have let Luhan take this thing if it wasn’t completely safe.” Or staffed by seven of the most decorated soldiers Xiumin had come across, three of them officers and two of them gifted.

“Right.” Chen nudged him a little. “So if you aren’t up here trying to be all stoic and manly, what are you doing? Thinking?”

“Yes,” Xiumin sighed out, because it wasn’t a lie. He was worried about bringing Luhan to the Forbidden City, and about being so completely cut off from the rest of M and any help that they might need. He was worried about what they’d find in the Forbidden City, if anything, and how it would affect them. Would it help or hurt?

This time there was no nudge, instead Chen was pulling at Xiumin, saying, “Come down below deck with me. We should relax while we can.”

A little reluctantly Xiumin followed Chen down the narrow steps that led to the rooms below the main deck. There were several in all on the first level, and three more levels down with even more space. Both Lay and Luhan had spent the better part of the morning resting in their private cabins, but they were now gathered in a bigger den-like room. 

As Xiumin poured himself a drink from the nearby bar area, he could hear Luhan asking Lay quietly, “No, really, I’m interested. Tell me.”

Chen seemed completely disinterested in the conversation and had slipped onto a nearby recliner, his eyes closed. Xiumin had no doubt he was awake, on alert for any potential danger, but he also wasn’t paying any real attention to the conversation between the two friends.

“Well,” Lay said slowly, a slight blush to his cheeks, “I like his strength. And I don’t mean physical even though he has an … impressive physique.”

Luhan gave a haughtily laugh and explained, “Lay! That’s practically scandalous coming from you.”

Lay pressed on, “I like the strength he shows in adversity. His patience and understanding. I don’t know, Luhan. I just like him. Can’t you relate?”

Xiumin sipped at his drink, waiting for Luhan’s answer. They were very clearly talking about Lay’s recent courtship with Commander Suho. For anyone in K, where the old traditions had been abandoned, such a thing probably meant nothing, but for Lay who’s family was rooted deep in propriety, the importance of it couldn’t be understated. Especially with Lay’s closeness with the crown.

“I can,” Luhan said almost immediately. 

At a near whisper, Lay asked, “What drew you to Kai? He was the enemy at the time. Was the draw a forbidden romance?”

Xiumin leaned a little closer to hear.

“He was never my enemy,” Luhan said just as quietly. “I had years and years to get to know him in my dreams. But if you must know, I first loved him because he made me smile more than anyone else. No matter what he did or said, it was always to make me smile, and maybe laugh. He always tried to lift my spirits and brighten my day. That’s an admirable quality in someone. Commander Suho has those as well.”

Lay shot back, “I like that Suho respects the things that are important to me, even if he doesn’t understand why. He follows all of the proper procedures in our courtship, even though I know he thinks most of them are silly, and he’s promised not to besmirch my honor in any way before the proper channels are taken first.”

Luhan quirked an eyebrow. “So he’s promised no to kiss you? At least not in public?”

“When are we ever together for something like that to happen?”

Easily, Luhan said, “You two will be seeing a lot of each other in the coming years. No matter who’s elected in K, Commander Suho will likely retain control of the military. That will require quite a lot of trips to M.”

Solemnly, Lay insisted, “Suho understands that a kiss witnessed by others is equivalent to a betrothal. We like each other, but we’re not sure we want to marry each other. And considering I’ve been lucky enough not to be promised to anyone, I want to take advantage of being able to choose.” A second later he seemed to register his words and said fiercely, “I’m sorry, Luhan. I just meant--”

“I know what you meant,” Luhan waved off. “And our situations are different. You know that. But I think you’re good for each other. Oddly enough you suit each other. Of course, Lay, you know that if there is a betrothal, and a marriage, you’ll have to move to K.”

That was a sudden thought that Xiumin hadn’t considered. He supposed he’d taken for granted that all of his closest friends would remain with him in the palace. The thought of losing Lay, even to a happy marriage, was distressing. 

“I couldn’t leave you,” Lay protested. “What if you needed me?”

Luhan said, “When all of this is dealt with, I’ll be less vulnerable, and you know it. I’ll always need you as a friend, but I won’t need you for more than that.”

Xiumin moved to a nearby sofa and let himself perch on the edge of it as the ship shifted course. The ship was big and practically soundless, but Xiumin could still feel the engine under his feet, and he could feel the turns. They had to be coming up on their destination soon. 

Xiumin was so distracted by his thoughts he barely heard Lay say, “--I’ve never asked you about your visions before. I firmly believe they’re gifted to you for a reason, and it’s not my place to pry. But about the future …”

“Have I seen anything of yours?” Luhan posed gently.

“I’m not even sure I’d want to know,” Lay said quickly. 

The future was something even Xiumin was curious about. And it was a slight letdown as Luhan said, “The future is always in motion, Lay. Some things can be changed and some can’t, but I’ve never fully been able to tell which is which. What we do today may influence the future that we currently have to such a degree that me telling you anything could be pointless.”

“I guess you’re right,” Lay said with a smile. “I just wanted to know if I get my happy ending.”

A warning chime rang through the ship as Luhan leaned forward to tell Lay, “You are a good friend, Lay, and an amazing person. People who do the kind of good that you do, get happy endings. Trust me.”

Chen sat up. “What’s that sound?”

“Land’s approaching,” Luhan said, getting to his feet. He didn’t sway the slightest as the ship continued to make a tight turn, proving that he’d mastered his sea legs long ago. “That’s the captain sending a message down to the engine room to cut the power down to a minimum. The water is shallow up ahead.”

From a nearby window Xiumin could see the Forbidden City starting to come into view. Even with its destruction it was magnificent. Of course it was a magnificent radioactive deathtrap. But that part wasn’t what he wanted to concentrate on.

The door to the cabin crashed open and the captain of the vessel, and older looking man who’d probably been appointed to his position by the king’s father in his younger years, bowed sharply to Luhan an announced, “There’s a transmission from the palace, your majesty. It’s from the king directly. He’s asking to speak to you quickly. It’s very important. There’s been an incident.”

Luhan tore off almost right away, and Xiumin was right behind him, trusting Chen to stay with Lay. Lay’d never exactly been assigned a protective detail, not like the royal family had, but between himself and Chen and Tao, and some of the others, it was an unspoken rule that Lay was to be protected as well. And now, with them in unfamiliar territory, there was a need for it ever more than usual. 

“Kris?” Luhan asked, taking an earpiece from a nearby officer when they reached the bridge of the ship. He was quiet for a second, listening to his husband, and Xiumin tried to reign in his curiosity. Luhan was sure to share the news, whatever it was, with them in only a minute more. 

They were sailing into the harbor of the Forbidden City by the time Luhan was demanding, “What happened? I thought it was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission. Kris, how did this happen? How badly hurt is he?”

Xiumin perked at the words. Someone was hurt, and considering the words spoken, it had to be someone from the mission to the Deadlands. 

“No,” Luhan continued. “I understand. No, I don’t need him. I swear it. Please, Kris.”

Xiumin felt the engines cut out completely, and then they were just going with the momentum, the captain attentive at the wheel as he looked for a safe dock.

“I’ll be fine,” Luhan huffed out. 

“Your majesty?” the captain called out, a finger stretched out at the bridge’s giant windows in a point. “There’s a figure up ahead. It looks to be a man.”

Luhan said into the communication device, “I see him, Kris. I’ll contact you again very soon. Trust me, okay?”

“Your majesty?” the captain said again, clearly looking for direction.

“It’s okay,” Luhan said, tapping the ear piece to end the call. “It’s Kai.”

The ship wasn’t completely docked before Kai appeared before Luhan on the bridge, a bright white bandage across his forehead. 

Luhan demanded right away, “How bad is Chanyeol hurt? Wait, how badly are you hurt? Kris didn’t say anything about you being hurt.”

As if on cue, Kai listed almost violently to the side. Xiumin charged forward with Luhan, the both of them intending to anchor Kai in place. Instead both were startling back a little as Kai shouted, “Don’t touch me!” He staggered a little, then gave Luhan a soft look. “I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t risk it, so … don’t touch me.”

Luhan squared his shoulders. “You would never hurt me.”

“Not on purpose,” Kai mumbled softly, and Xiumin felt his distain over their previous indiscretions weaken. There was such agony in the way Kai and Luhan looked at each other now, and Xiumin could barely stand to see his best friend suffer so much. 

Chen and Lay emerged up the stairwell and onto the bridge as Luhan asked Kai shakily, “What’s wrong?”

“We were attacked,” Kai explained a little shakily. His eyes were wide and he was practically vibrating. He seemed almost as if he were on some sort of recreational drug.

Luhan seemed to notice as well, and asked hesitantly, “Kai? Tell me. You’re worrying me.”

“What’s going on?” Lay asked, taking a step forward. He clasped a hand around Kai’s wrist and Xiumin watched Lay’s face for any sign that he was healing.

“We were attacked,” Kai said once more. “I hit my head. Concussion.”

“That’s for sure,” Lay said. “Now hold still.”

A half second later Kai was rocketing off his feet and Lay was halfway across the bridge in a heap.

“What was that?” Chen demanded, bounding over to Lay to help him up, Luhan scurrying after him with concern.

Without hesitation Xiumin reached down for Kai, and like with Lay there was an immediate reaction. 

“Duck!” Xiumin shouted, pressure building in his body until it was releasing in a burst of ice shards.

“Xiumin!” Chen shouted, pressing Luhan’s head down protectively. “What the hell!”

“Wow,” Lay said, shaking his hand. “That was a power surge.”

Xiumin nodded with wide eyes. “You’re telling me.”

Eyes a little more clear, Kai blinked a few times. “I feel much better.”

“What did you do?” Luhan asked him, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Kai? What have you done?”

Without an ounce of guilt, Kai told Luhan, “The hit I took in the attack really rattled me. I couldn’t think straight. I could barely walk in a straight line. I just knew that Chanyeol was hurt worse than me and I had to get him to the palace for Lay. I had to get Chanyeol help immediately. I just didn’t think I could do all of that so soon after the battle.”

“So?” Luhan prompted.

Kai cut him a look. “So I made a detour to pick up my orb.”

Lay said confidently, “That would explain why my ability experienced the sudden boost right after I touched you. A volatile boost. And why Xiumin nearly decapitated some of us.”

“I feel great,” Kai said, “if it’s any consolation. I still feel wicked powerful, but less like I’m going to explode from some sort of internal pressure.”

“That was so dangerous,” Luhan said, reaching for Kai, only to have him duck out of the way again.

“Better if you don’t touch me,” Kai said hastily. “Anyway, I’m here to get Lay. Chanyeol was hurt in the fight and he needs a healer right away. He needs the best healer. He’s really bad. He might … we need you, Lay.”

“Wait,” Xiumin protested, pushing at Lay as harshly as he dared when the healer reached for Kai presumably “We need Lay here. Luhan’s going into the Forbidden City to potentially make contact with Mama. That’s got all the potential to mess him up. I can’t let you take the one person who can help him afterwards.”

Anger sparked across Kai’s face. “Did you miss the part of the conversation when I said that we were attacked? We went out to the Deadlands and these … shadow things attacked us. The enemy. Chanyeol took a hit full on, protecting Baekhyun. He had direct contact!”

Xiumin’s eyes flicked to Luhan’s face as he paled, asking, “He had contact?”

Kai gave a stern nod. “He’s already starting to exhibit symptoms. On his skin. He doesn’t have long. We need Lay to try and heal him. I don’t know if it’s going to do anything, but we have to try.” Kai dragged his fingers through his hair roughly and exhaled loudly. Then he said quietly, so not to be overheard by the bridge crew surrounding them, “Look, I know this isn’t something you want to hear, but I love Luhan more than anything else in this world, and I would never, absolutely never, do anything to put him in danger or even risk it. I know he needs Lay here. I know everything about this is dangerous, but I’m telling you I trust Luhan to be okay right now, because Chanyeol needs Lay, and I can’t go back without him. Chanyeol won’t survive without him. So this is me, standing here telling you that I prioritize Luhan over everyone on this planet, and I’m still asking for Lay to go with me.”

Immediately Luhan was reaching for Lay, pulling him towards Kai, commanding, “Go with him, Lay. Chanyeol is in danger. You have to do whatever you can. I’ll be fine here.”

“You don’t know that,” Xiumin interjected. He hated that Luhan was looking at him like he was crazy. Or worse, the enemy. It was true Chanyeol wasn’t a friend, but he was an ally, and Xiumin fully understood what Kai was saying, but Lay was still needed with them. The risk to Luhan was too great for him not to put up a fuss.

“Xiumin,” Chen eased out, looking conflicted. “A man’s life is at stake here.”

“I can’t let you take him,” Xiumin told Kai first, letting his gaze stray over to Luhan, then Chen, so he was understood. “I recognize your feelings for Luhan, Kai, and the situation with Chanyeol. But if you truly did prioritize Luhan, you wouldn’t be asking this.”

“I’ll make it an order,” Luhan threatened. 

“What if something happens to you?” Xiumin argued with him. “What if you need Lay?”

“I might, it is a real possibility,” Luhan challenged, “but Chanyeol certainly does. And I won’t argue with you over this. Lay is going. Kai will bring him back if he can. If not, I’ll deal. This is happening, and if you test me on this Xiumin, it might break something with us. I don’t want that. Do you?”

Lay reached for Kai once more, and this time there was no shock throwing them apart. But Xiumin could see the way Lay shuddered at the contact. 

“I’ll do whatever I can,” Lay promised, and then he and Kai were gone. 

With an awkward clearing of his throat, Chen said, “We should get going. We’re close enough now to have already started the timer for how long we can be here before we start to get sick. We need to move if we’re going to do this at all.”

“Xiumin,” Luhan said kindly, moving to stand in front of him. “Baozi.”

Feeling frustrated, and even betrayed, Xiumin told him, “Why don’t you understand that you’re my first and only consideration here? I want Chanyeol to be okay, too. We need him, and I know he’s important. But no one will be more important to me than you. I have to put you first, and that means making had calls. Do you understand that? Do you get it at all? Your boyfriend talks a good game, but I can’t excuse him wanting something like this that could impact you. This isn’t him prioritizing you.”

“No,” Luhan cut back, “it’s him trusting me. It’s something not a lot of people do. He trusts me to be okay for five seconds, and to not need to be coddled and protected and watched over endlessly.”

Xiumin pursed his lips, and after taking a moment to censor himself, told Luhan, “We won’t agree on this situation. And I won’t forgive you for undermining me in front of our friends and my fellow soldiers. This is my job, Luhan … and … sometimes I think our friendship hurts my ability to do it.” He was getting angrier by the second, and needed a second to cool off. The last thing he wanted to do was snap at Luhan, but he was barely keeping his temper in check 

Luhan posed quietly, “You regret our friendship?”

Xiumin shook his head, and said, “You know that isn’t true. But it makes this hard. Really hard, sometimes. And that line that I have to be careful not to cross with you, the one that’s always there, hanging over my head, it’s getting harder and harder to see, Luhan.”

Luhan ducked his head in wordless acceptance, and Xiumin couldn’t help thinking that maybe they’d already broken something between them.

There was just enough time for Chen to tell the captain, “We might be coming in hot as far as time goes. We’ll need to get as far away from the city as possible when we’re done. Be ready to go the second we appear.”

Then the three of them were making the short, five minute walk to the area where Kai and Tao had both claimed to have their experience with Mama.

“Are you still mad at me?” Luhan inquired after Xiumin had been quite for a while. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I don’t think it was wrong, even though you probably don’t think you were wrong, either, but I didn’t say the right words. I’m sorry for embarrassing you in front of the others, and being tactless.”

“No, I’m not mad anymore,” Xiumin sighed out, because it was the truth. He wasn’t mad at Luhan. He just wanted Luhan to realize the pecking order. Regardless if it was fair or right, Luhan was always going to be the priority and there was nothing to be done about it.

“You seem mad.”

“I’m not. I promise.” But he was still hurt.

They climbed the stairs to the temple shortly after that, and all of the worry in Luhan seemed to melt away. His eyes widened and suddenly he was darting forward, almost childlike, leaving both Xiumin and Chen behind.

“Hey!” Xiumin shouted.

Xiumin was absolutely sure that Luhan had never been in the temple, let alone the Forbidden City, but he seemed to know exactly where he was going, passing from the main foyer and entrance way to the deeper inner channels of the temple.

Xiumin was hot on his heels when a sudden shiver ran through his body, making him skid to a stop. Something pulled at his stomach and he couldn’t fight it.

“Xiumin?” Chen inquired, obviously unsure as to what to do. Luhan was traveling further from them, but Chen was reluctant to move after him without Xiumin.

“Go after him!” Xiumin urged right away, placing the task of keeping Luhan in eyesight ahead of his own status. “Don’t let him get too far ahead. I’ll be right behind you.” 

Chen needed no further prompting and was running at full speed a moment later.

Xiumin struggled to take a step forward after his two companions, but he couldn’t deny the urging in him to move in a different direction. In fact, testing out the waters proved that moving towards the left far wall of the main chamber was a breeze, but anywhere else was as struggle.

“Okay,” he huffed out, understanding. “I get it.” He was eternally nervous about leaving Luhan’s safety to Chen, no matter how capable and competent the man was. But the compulsion he was experiencing to head his own way was one that couldn’t be denied.

Going by the feeling in his gut he was able to find a partially blocked off staircase that led up to the second floor balcony of the temple. The stairs creaked under Xiumin’s weight, giving the impression that they were going to give out at any second, but he pressed on, trusting in Mama.

The feeling and compulsion vanished almost the second he was standing in front of a large tapestry. The life tree was prominently displayed on it, though it was covered with a film of dust and debris that was so thick he had to beat at the art to get a better look at it.

Not unexpectedly were the twelve symbols spread out around the life tree.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Xiumin mused aloud. 

He ran his fingers along the tapestry, feeling the threads. He was nearly overwhelmed by the history in front of him.

Only, there was no way Mama had led him away from Luhan and to tapestry without there being a reason for it. Mama probably appreciated art, but this was way more than that. Xiumin could sense that in his chest.

He studied the tapestry for several more minutes, finding nothing overly special about it. He was nearly ready to give up, and maybe go get Luhan to help him, when his boot caught in one of the larger creases in the rooting ground underneath him. He reached instinctively for the tapestry to steady himself, already cursing his lack of grace.

The tapestry came down from the weight of Xiumin’s pull, and behind it were the faintest outlines of what looked like a doorway.

He remarked, “ Never let it be said that clumsiness doesn’t have its uses.”

There was no handle to the door shape, and the odd material it was made out of didn’t register with any that Xiumin knew. But something told him it was certainly a door, and there was something important behind it.

“How do I get you open?” Xiumin asked. He tried pushing on it to no avail, really putting his weight behind it, but it didn’t budge an inch. 

What good was a door if he couldn’t get it open?

Impatiently Xiumin tapped his foot on the floor and said, “I’m supposed to be one of your guardians, Mama. Help me out here.” He reached out to absently draw his symbol on the door, dragging the dust around. “I bet you’d open right up for Luhan. You play dirty with favorites like that.”

The hissing from the wall, like a pressurized seal being broken, startled Xiumin terribly. He jumped back a few paces and was about to call out when he noticed the dust shaking free from the door. The lines of his symbol remained, however, and then the wall was opening up to reveal a small, perfectly preserved chamber.

“Very cool,” Xiumin had to remark. “And I take back everything you said about playing favorites.”

There were various texts in the small room, and a few figurines. But drawing Xiumin’s attention completely was the small wooden box tucked in an alcove. Xiumin had seen a similar box before, less than a few days previous. It was in fact identical to the one that Baekhyun and Chen had rescued from the cave system in K, if in better condition. 

However instead of the six symbols he’d seen on the other box, this one had six different pictures etched into it. Xiumin found his own quickly and ran his hands almost reverently over the box before popping it open to find the six orbs he’d expected. 

“Well played, Mama.”

He left everything else, though there’d probably be an uproar from several people including Lay over leaving the books behind, and brought only the box with him.

“Luhan?” Xiumin shouted, carefully navigating his way down the stairs. “Chen?”

He headed in the direction they’d gone, holding the box preciously. He’d seen what one of the orbs had done to Baekhyun. If they worked that way with all of them, they were going to be the single most important items for the upcoming battle against the shadows.

The temple’s floor plan was fairly straightforward, and before long he was going down the last possible hallway. There’d likely only be a room or two left that they could have entered.

“Luhan!”

In his haste and fright from suddenly seeing Luhan sprawled out on the floor of the prayer room, Xiumin dropped the box. He didn’t stop to see the damage as he spotted Chen not too far away from Luhan, also motionless.

“Luhan!” Xiumin reached his side and rolled him over to his back, breath catching as he stared down at the open but sightless eyes that belong to Luhan. 

And then Xiumin was falling. Until he wasn’t.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Xiumin frowned, looking over to Chen. Around them the smell of nature was overpowering and the sound of rain clicking down around them was pleasant. But Xiumin was at a loss as to how he’d gotten himself to the middle of a forest, standing next to Chen who was holding an umbrella over their heads to block out the rain.

“What’s going on?”

Chen tipped the bright red umbrella back a little, reaching a hand out to catch drops on his fingers. He turned his hand over in fascination and said, “I think we’re in a waiting room of some sort.”

Xiumin shook his head. “We were in the temple. I found something, and then I went looking for you and Luhan.” Fear flushed through him. “Where’s Luhan?”

“Over there,” Chen said easily. He nodded his direction across the densely packed forest. “He’s having a nice conversation with Mama, I think. Mama is hot.”

Xiumin’s eyes searched across the tree trunks and green forest around him until he settled on the sight of Luhan. Luhan was tucked in close to someone, and wearing a sky blue raincoat with matching rain boots. He was engrossed in whatever was being said to him by a taller, extremely attractive man.

“My head hurts,” Xiumin said, feeling a little numb. “I think I fell and hurt it.”

“Nah.” Chen grinned. “The best I can figure is that Luhan’s having a vision, and we got dragged into it. I mean, check out our clothes. Great, right?”

It was only then that Xiumin realized he was dressed in a yellow, rubbery coat that protected him from any of the wetness that splashed up from the ground or managed to sneak around the umbrella. Chen had his own matching outfit. 

“So,” Xiumin eased out slowly, “Luhan’s having a vision. And we’re having it with him?”

Chen said, “I think so. And really, who thought Mama would be a really good looking guy.”

Xiumin turned for another look at the man. And it was true, he was handsome with strong features and a kind smile. He pressed a hand to Luhan’s cheek and though Xiumin couldn’t hear what was being said, it seemed comforting even from a distance.

“Mama doesn’t have a gender,” Xiumin said. “Mama isn’t a person, Chen. We just use a female pronoun to keep from confusing ourselves.”

Chen rocked back a little on his feet. “I hope Luhan’s getting some important information over there. They’ve been talking for hours.”

“They can’t have been,” Xiumin denied with a frown. Luhan and Chen had managed maybe twenty minutes on him, at the very most.

“It’s been hours for me,” Chen insisted. “But I’m just going to guess that time works differently in a dream or vision.”

Tentatively, Xiumin asked, “Should we go over there?” The conversation between Mama and Luhan seemed a private moment, but Xiumin hated being left out of important things. If they were talking about the upcoming solar alignment, Xiumin wanted to hear what was being said.

“Can’t,” Chen said, passing the umbrella off to Xiumin. “I tried the second we ended up here and I was separated from Luhan. I can get about as far as that log over there, then I’m suddenly back here in the blink of an eye. It’s confusing, kind of like Kai must feel when he teleports. It’s instantaneous.” 

“What’s with the rain?”

Xiumin let the umbrella fall to the wayside and suddenly his hair was wet, and the rain was starting to slide down his neck to the clothing he wore under his raincoat. It felt real. It felt exactly like being caught in a summer storm, because it wasn’t cold at all. It was just about as wonderful as rain could be.

Chen posed, “Maybe it’s supposed to be symbolic. I don’t know. I just hope that we don’t end up like Tao and Kai did. They got flung out of the vision they were sharing with Mama, but that could be chalked up to Luhan not being there to anchor it. Mama did say that they weren’t supposed to be here without Luhan.”

“Oracle,” Xiumin said quietly. “Tao said she kept asking for the Oracle.”

A heartbeat later Chen turned to Xiumin and asked, “You said you found something? Before this happened?”

Xiumin gave a firm nod. “I think I found our box. The box with our symbols on it. I mean, I don’t think, I know. It has six orbs in it. But I … I might have dropped it.”

“Hey,” Chen interrupted, pointing again to Luhan. “Something’s happening.”

Mama was reaching out, clasping either side of Luhan’s face. Then Mama was pressing a kiss to Luhan’s forehead and Luhan was crying. Luhan was falling to his knees and sobbing harshly and Mama was simply standing there, looking so sorrowful Xiumin could have mistaken Mama for a real person.

“What’s that about?” Chen asked, looking like he was barely holding himself back from trying to head over there once more.

Xiumin felt himself go stiff as Mama looked over to them for the first time. “I think we’re about to find out.” He could see Mama’s mouth moving, saying something to Luhan who was nothing but a heap on the wet ground.

“Yeah?” Chen asked. “I don’t suppose you read lips.”

“Something’s wrong,” Xiumin said confidently. “Something is really wrong.”

“Look at Luhan’s face,” Chen said, looking ashen himself. 

Xiumin felt his stomach bottom out. The look on Luhan’s face was … one of utter surrender. 

“I’m not staying here,” Xiumin ground out, determined to get to Luhan. 

He’d only started out towards Luhan when Chen called after him in a reminder, “I already tried, Xiumin!”

“I don’t care,” Xiumin snapped back, catapulting himself over a nearby log. He dared Mama to try and stop him. He dared anyone.

And miraculously a second later he was at Luhan’s side. He was dropping down next to him, pushing at Luhan’s wet bangs, asking him softly, “Are you okay?” Xiumin looked up at Mama’s handsome, masculine face and demanded, “What did you say to him to make him this upset?”

Luhan sniffled a little helplessly. “I’m okay, Baozi.”

Xiumin flinched back as Mama’s hand came down on top of his head. It was a feather light touch, but there was no denying the power behind it.

“You are all my children,” Mama said, Chen huffing and puffing as he came up behind them with the umbrella, holding it over Xiumin and Luhan. “And my love for you is immeasurable. Never forget this.”

“How do we win?” Xiumin barely managed, feeling Luhan shudder next to him. “What can we do? Tell us everything we need to know.”

Luhan choked out another sob and Xiumin pulled him closer. It was only for a moment he took his eyes off Mama, but when he looked back Mama was gone, and the rain was letting up almost immediately.

“Are you okay?” Chen asked, kneeling down beside them. “Luhan? You’re so pale.”

Before Luhan could give any kind of reply the world was rippling around them, and then they were waking up.

Xiumin dragged in a deep breath as he pulled himself up to his hands and knees. He was back in the temple, his heart beating thunderously in his chest. He coughed loudly, clutching at his chest, disoriented and uneasy.

Nearby, Chen barked out, “Is it always like this?” He was coughing too, swaying dangerously on his knees.

Luhan was the only one seemingly unaffected by the shift, laying on his back, staring up at the rainbow tiles on the ceiling of the prayer room.

“Luhan?” Xiumin broached, leaning over Luhan to block his line of sight. “Are you okay?” He reached over to brush at Luhan’s bangs affectionately. “How do you feel?”

“Sick,” Luhan said simply, then curled onto his side, hugging himself. He was crying shortly after that, drawing in sharp, heart wrenching gasps of air.

Xiumin looked quickly over to Chen. “What time have you got on the clock?”

Chen held up his wrist, a watch and digital countdown flashing on it. “Forty-Nine minutes. We need to get moving. We don’t have much time left.”

Xiumin staggered a little on his feet, then steadied himself and reached down for Luhan. “Come on,” he said. “We have to get moving or you’ll feel even sicker.” Luhan was light enough that Xiumin could physically pull him up without any help. But it was how quiet he was being that worried Xiumin the most.

“I take it this is what you found?” Chen asked, coming up next to Xiumin, holding the box out for him.

“Luhan, Chen.” Xiumin reached for it, then opened it for them both to see. “I found ours. Mama guided me towards it.”

Chen’s watch gave a shrill beep and he said, “That’s our ten minute warning.”

“We’re going now,” Xiumin said, pushing gently at the small of Luhan’s back. “Either we got what we needed or we didn’t. But we’re going.”

It took some time to get back to the ship, despite knowing the way with more familiarity. Chen led them, the box tucked carefully under one arm, and Xiumin ended up pulling Luhan more than anything else, trying to get him to keep up on his own.

Something was wrong with Luhan. He wouldn’t meet Xiumin’s eyes, didn’t want to speak, and his movements were slow, almost lethargic. He was pale, more sickly looking than ever before, and Xiumin didn’t like the vacant expression on his face. The tears, too. They wouldn’t stop coming, and Luhan wouldn’t explain why.

“Your majesty,” the captain called out, waving to them from the dock when they were close enough. “We need to leave quickly.”

“I know,” Chen yelled back, “we’re cutting it close.”

But Xiumin could see something else was the matter, carefully hidden on the captain’s face, but not in his tone when he spoke.

When they were up the ramp and on the ship, Xiumin told Chen, “Go get Luhan settled in his quarters. I need to talk to the captain.”

He made his way quickly to the bridge, leaving behind his two friends, and asked the captain directly, “What’s going on?”

Almost immediately the engines powered to life, the floor rumbling as they worked at maximum strength.

“There have been several calls from the palace,” the captain relayed. “From the captain of the guard specifically.”

Xiumin felt his stomach drop. “Is the king okay?” Tao’s main concern was the king, and he hardly acted for anything else.

Quietly, so the rest of the crew on the bridge couldn’t overhear them, the captain said, “The captain of the guard was asking for his majesty’s swift return. There’s a problem at the palace.”

Kai. It had to be about Kai who’d shown up to take Lay from them because Chanyeol had been injured. Maybe … Xiumin hated to think it, but maybe Chanyeol’s injuries had been beyond Lay. Even Lay had limits to what he could do. Or what if it was Kai who was more injured than they’d first thought. If Luhan lost Kai … that wasn’t something Xiumin thought Luhan could come back from.

“What kind of problem?”

“A time sensitive one,” the captain said, then moved to the helm to guide the ship away from the Forbidden City.

“Is there a problem?” Chen asked when Xiumin made the trek down to the main area below deck.

Honestly he replied, “I don’t know. Where’s Luhan?”

“Resting, I hope. I mean, I got him to lay down and stop crying, so there’s that. But Xiumin, doesn’t he seem a little … off to you? Luhan always sort of lives in his own world, but this is different.”

With a low groan Xiumin took a seat nearby. “He seems pretty shaken up. I don’t have a clue what he and Mama were talking about, but it doesn’t seem like it went over that well.”

The ship gave a strong, sudden jerk underneath them and Chen flailed for a second, demanding, “What’s was that?”

Xiumin pursed his lips. “There’s an incident at the palace. Before you ask, I don’t know what it is, only that Luhan is needed. The captain is obviously trying to push the ship to its limits.”

“Why not get the teleporter? That would be faster.”

Leaning back, Xiumin relayed, “Truthfully, I think the issue is him. I think it’s bad, too. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t know. He said he’d bring Lay back, and he doesn’t seem the type to break his word. If he can’t get back, that means this thing happening at the palace is either about him, or Chanyeol. Neither option is good.”

“Can’t we catch a break?” Chen wondered, then stretched for a second before jerking a thumb down the hallway. “I’m going to rest for a bit, too. I’ll keep my door open and I’ll take the room directly across from Luhan. Are you going to be okay? You look a little shaken yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Xiumin assured. He waved Chen off towards a room and went to pour himself a drink. 

Five minuets later he went to check on Luhan. He poked his head slowly into his cabin, trying not to disturb Chen across the hallway. “Luhan?”

Curled into a small ball on the bed, Luhan met Xiumin’s gaze with dull eyes. “Baozi.”

Xiumin closed Luhan’s door to a crack behind him, toed off his shoes and then made his decision. He knelt up on the bed, scooting to Luhan’s side, then pressed in close to him. He caught Luhan’s fingers with his own, laced them together, and leaned his forehead against Luhan’s. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded. “You know you can trust me. You know I am your best friend and your greatest ally. Tell me.”

After minutes, endless minutes, Luhan squeezed Xiumin’s hand in such a fierce way that it almost hurt. 

“It’s …”

“Yes?” Xiumin prompted gently.

In a rush, with a cracking voice, Luhan revealed, “This is the end, Xiumin. Mama is dead now.”

“Dead?” Xiumin startled, jerking backwards.

Luhan gave a weary, heavy nod. “And she isn’t the only one.”


	22. Kai

“Get out of the way!” Legs pumping, Kai propelled himself up the main steps to the capital building, already out of breath from the quick sprint from the nearby communications tower he’d been coordinating the recent war effort from. He fought down the urge to use his ability and conserved his energy instead.

And he did his best to push through the protesters around him without inciting more trouble. It was already a scene that was likely to turn into the week’s third riot.

He was through the main doors shortly after, bypassing the people steaming against him as he flashed his identification badge to some of the last security left. He broke into the chaos that was currently unfolding in the more restricted areas of the building and tried not to lose himself in it. People were shouting, pushing and frantically going about their business, and in hindsight it wasn’t all that much different in the building than outside. Except maybe the civilians were less focused, and there were more of them.

Kai grabbed the arm of a young man wearing an officer’s uniform and demanded, “Have you seen Commander Suho?” Kai had tried him moments later over his private line, but the commander hadn’t answered the call, and that wasn’t like him at all. Especially in light of recent developments. 

“I don’t know, sorry!” The man pulled out of Kai’s grip and took off at a run.

In the distance Kai could hear the roar of the civilian population still cluttered around the capital building. For right now they had enough men to keep the crowd back, but it wouldn’t be long before they were desperate and angry enough to push their way through. They were too scared not to. Today might be the day they breached the building.

Commander Suho. He had to find the commander.

“Kai!”

Chen was racing to his side a second later, winded and asking, “Have the last of the priority evacuations happened? Are those people safe?”

Kai paused and frowned. “Chen? I thought you were headed out with the first group this morning. You’re supposed to be with D.O.. Those were your orders.”

Again, Chen asked, “The evacuations?”

It took a minute for Kai to recall what he knew, at least based on the last estimate he’d read, but he was able to tell Chen, “M lent us fifteen more of their ships for evacuation, on top of the first ten. The last I heard almost everyone on the priority evacuation list is accounted for. But Chen, those ships already launched, so if someone didn’t make it on, they’re not going to now.”

Not that evacuating any of their people to the last safe refuge on the planet was a permanent solution. Thousands of people couldn’t just sit out in the ocean forever, most of them children at that. They were going to run out of food and water before long, and if the world was ending around them, the water wouldn’t keep them safe.

Chen ran a hand through his hair, but Kai couldn’t tell if he looked relieved or frustrated. “Do you have a manifest anywhere? Somewhere I can look up the list of names?”

“Maybe,” Kai said distractedly, trying to inch his way away from Chen. “Look, I’ll see what I can do for you when I have the time. But this is not it.”

Chen could obviously sense the severity of the situation and asked, “Did something happen? What happened?”

“I have to go,” Kai said, thumbing towards the nearby hall. “I have to find Commander Suho. There’s been another attack, another fissure opened up just outside of town, the closest it’s ever been to the capital. Troops are moving to engage, but I need the commander right away.”

Chen caught Kai’s arm and asked, “Right outside the city?”

“Practically in it,” Kai shot back. “The next one will be in. We need to sound the alarm. We need to get these people out of here. I need the commander.”

“I’m asking about my family,” Chen said abruptly, letting go of Kai’s arm. “I know the commander did me a favor getting my family on the first evacuation list. Without his influence, they may not have had a chance at it at all. But that doesn’t guarantee me that they made it on, and I haven’t heard anything since the order came down to start evacuations.”

Amidst all the chaos around them, Kai tried to steady himself. Over the weeks Chen had come to be a friend. Chen was someone who’d been unappreciative of his situation in K, but had grown to love the country and the people, and done more than his part to broker less of a divide between the people of K and M. He’d gone to every dinner, every fundraiser and ever political debate asked of him. He’d smiled, shown that he genuinely cared about the people of K, and he and Kai had gone out for drinks after work more than a couple times. Chen was a friend now, and Chen was asking about his family.

“How many members of your family did Suho manage to find slots for on the list?” Kai asked, pulling Chen off to the side and out of the way of the other people around them. “You’ve got four siblings?:

Chen gave a nod. “But my two eldest sisters are married and have families of their own now. I don’t know if Commander Suho could do anything about that, they’re probably too old. But I have underage siblings who would’ve made the cut. I’ve been trying to find out all day long if they made it onto the last ship they had a spot on. And yes, I know there are no more ships if they didn’t.”

Kai questioned, “Your two younger siblings aren’t of age? They’re minors?” When Chen nodded, Kai said, “Then chances are then, at least they were secured a spot, and at least your mom or dad accompanied them. The first chance I get I’ll look into the rest of your family. But I really have to go, Chen. The last time our troops engaged the enemy we lost over half of them. Our numbers are dwindling faster than we can keep up.”

“Go,” Chen urged, moving out of the way. “If he’s not here, and he’s not in the hub or the war room, he’s probably with Lay in the barracks.”

That halted Kai right away. “Lay was supposed to evacuate already, too. I can’t believe the commander would let him stay a second longer than is safe.”

Chen arched an eyebrow. “Have you tried telling Lay what to do? He’s spent more than enough time around Luhan to learn how to be stubborn in getting his way.”

“Good point.” Kai jabbed a finger at Chen. “I promise I will find something out about your family, but you need to evacuate right now. If D.O.’s gone ahead to meet up with Xiumin and Sehun, you can still catch up.”

“I feel like a coward evacuating while I can still fight,” Chen said, only mirroring what Kai felt. 

Kai leaned in close so he could keep his voice quiet. “It’s not official, but I think Commander Suho is going to issue an abandon order. There’s no where safe for the rest of our people to go, but they’re better on the move than they are here. There’s nothing but death waiting for them if they stay here. In a couple of days, the capital is going to be completely abandoned. And from what Luhan tells me, they’re thinking of doing the same thing at the palace. We’re losing ground we can’t get back.”

No place was safe from the fissures that were popping up all over Exo. In both M and K they were spewing out shadowy creatures that most of the people stood no chance against. 

Their more priority members of society, the highly educated, those in specialized fields, and children, had been evacuated to the sea, where there hadn’t been a single report of contact yet. And Kai knew from Luhan that Commander Suho and King Kris had already made plans to bring their cabinet members and highest military officials to a central point for a final fortification. That was where D.O. had headed, and where Chen was supposed to have already left for.

But honestly Kai thought they were only prolonging the inevitable. No matter what they’d done, how hard they’d fought, and how they’re rallied together, they weren’t a match for the shadows. 

And Mama now was gone. 

Kai had been at Luhan’s side recently, at the king’s behest, desperately trying to consol him as he mourned for her. But it had seemed as if nothing Kai tried had worked. Not even he could help Luhan, and Luhan was different now. He was broken, just like the life tree, and it scared Kai to death that Luhan was reflecting its state.

The life tree had started decaying a week previous, mere hours after confirmation from Luhan about Mama’s death, and it was nothing but charred ash now.

Luhan was withering just like it. And if he turned to ash, just like her, and just like …

It was something Kai couldn’t think about. Instead he wanted to concentrate on the smallest of positive things, like how Luhan had been vision free and dream free since Mama’s death. The threat to his health, at least in that department, seemed to have vanished. It was something to cling to, if he could manage to ignore that Luhan looked even sicker than when he’d had his connection to Mama.

“I’ll go now,” Chen said, letting his hand rest for a second on Kai’s shoulder. “And I’ll see you later. Be safe, okay?”

Kai gave him a small wave and then set out through the capital building looking for Suho. 

He wasn’t in the command hub where people were desperately shouting things across the room at each other, relaying further evacuation plans, death estimates, troop movement, and coordinated maneuvers with M. 

“Has anyone seen Commander Suho?” Kai shouted above them. “The third regiment is moving to engage the enemy as we speak. Commander Suho’s authorization is required.”

A flurry of sound followed, but no one seemed to know where he was.

And then a quiet, soft spoken woman asked Kai, “Do you know when we should expect to evacuate ourselves?” There’d been extremely limited space on the priority evacuation list, but every officer, and every member of Suho’s private team within the capital had been allotted a single space on the list. Most of the people around Kai had put their children on launching ships without heasitation and hoped for the best. Most of them were still looking to reunite with them before the end.

“Soon, probably,” Kai said honestly. “The Commander will make the final call. But stay focused. We’re the last ones out for a reason. We have to keep the peace until the last possible second.”

That seemed to be enough for the moment, and Kai breathed easy as everyone went back to work. 

After that Kai headed directly to Commander Suho’s private quarters. It was generally accepted that Suho was some kind of a monster, sleeping only a couple hours a night, handling everyone’s problems without hesitation, and hardly ever resting. He’d been up the whole night previous, and Kai suspected he was now taking a short, hour or two power nap in order to be up the entire night again. And if Lay was still here, then he was likely with Suho.

Lay and Suho. Kai hadn’t seen that coming. There was no refuting that they worked well together, suited each other well, and fit together how Kai imagined he fit with Luhan. But that didn’t mean Kai had ever imagined that they’d end up together. They were practically married, too, with how much time they’d been spending together as of late.

Kai thought he’d never see the day when Lay stopped caring about pretense.

Though Kai supposed with Luhan’s tie to Mama gone, along with his visions, there wasn’t a need for Lay to stick to him so closely. Lay was free to act as a direct link between the palace and K’s budding government, and be closer to the person he loved.

At least Kai thought Lay and Suho were in love. They looked at each other like they were in love.

The residential area of the capital’s main barracks was blissfully silent, aside from some muffled shouting from a bit far away. Everyone seemed to be at their work station, or gone from the capital completely, which left Kai to navigate the hallways in complete silence. 

When Kai reached the commander’s door it was already cracked open, and he made to announce himself when Suho startled him, striding across the room with an open bag towards his dresser. 

“You should have gone yesterday,” Kai caught Suho saying as he roughly jammed clothing into the bag. “Or the day before. We’re going to lose the city any second now.”

“You’re overreacting,” Lay’s calm voice said, and as Kai took a step back to avoid being seen, Lay took a step forward to reach for the bag.

“I let you stay stupidly,” Suho continued, jerking the bag away from Lay. “Because I wanted to keep you next to me. Because I was selfish and I felt better when I could see that you were safe, standing right next to me. But I should have put you on a transport the minute these things got within ten miles of the capital. Now they’re at our goddamn doorstep.”

Lay reached for the bag again, and this time Suho let it go. Lay told him firmly, “I’m a guardian too. I can’t just leave because it isn’t safe. Being a guardian means staying when it isn’t.”

Suho made a dismissive sound. “Guardian? Look, I know we thought we had a shot at being something for a while, heroes or just protectors, but you know just as well as I do now that we don’t have a chance. We’re not even holding our own, and there aren’t twelve of us anymore. It’s more than just not safe for you here now, so I have to get you out of here.”

“I can fight.”

“Can you?” Suho spun on the words. “You can heal. Lay. You’re not a front line soldier. You’re a pillar of support, but you’re not meant to fight. The only people staying now are the ones who can fight.”

“You mean,” Lay corrected, “the ones who can die.”

Suho gave a grunt of a reply. 

Anger blossomed on Lay’s face as he finished filling the bag. Lay and Suho had been sharing a room almost the majority of the time Lay had been with them in K. In M that sort of thing would have been a scandal, but maybe that was part of the reason that Lay had come to K instead of the other way around. In K absolutely no one cared, and no one would relay any kind of impropriety back to those who did care in M. 

“There are plenty of soldiers out there right now who don’t have any gifts who are fighting,” Lay argued.

Shoulders slumping, Suho returned, “And they’re dying, Lay. The mortality rate is around sixty percent. That is an astronomically high number for not only the morale of the military, but their wiliness to stay and fight to protect the civilian population. It won’t be long before they stop listening to orders and try to save themselves. Didn’t you tell me that there are riots happening right now in M? Right outside the palace? It’s not just here, it’s everywhere, and there’s no stopping them.”

Kai froze at that. He’d spoken to Luhan through a short data burst not more than two days ago. Luhan hadn’t said anything about riots. He’d made it seem like M was fairing better than K. 

“The king is very worried,” Lay admitted, and Kai strained to hear. “This goes far beyond calling for a vote of no confidence. There will be no call. The people in M are panicking, the same as they are here. They’ve always been protected by the crown, but the crown can’t do anything to help right now, and the fissures are double in M what they are here. The king believes the civilians will try to storm the palace within a day or so if something doesn’t change. There might not be enough of the guard left to protect the palace from their numbers, not with all the additional troops being diverted to the warfront.”

Kai desperately wanted to burst into the room and demand to know why he hadn’t been told. Luhan was in danger, especially if angry, desperate people were so close to breaking into a place that was supposed to keep the royal family safe. Kai had promised Luhan, no matter what, that if he was ever in danger and in need of him, that he’d be there. Kai was not going to break his word.

“It’s likely the king will call for a complete evacuation of the palace, right?” Suho continued, the tension bleeding out of him as he put his hands on Lay’s waist. “And I’ll be calling for the evacuation of the capital shortly after that. We have to move to a better, more easily fortified position and unite our forces for one last stand. That’s why you need to go ahead and help.”

Lay let the bag slip down to the floor, his hands anchoring on Suho’s shoulders. “I don’t want to leave you here alone. You don’t look after yourself the way you should.”

“I’ll worry more if you’re here,” Suho said. He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Lay’s mouth. “I have to get you out of here, just in case something happens before I can call for that evacuation. If you go now, and I know you’re safe, then I can concentrate on doing what I need to here, and then I can meet up with you later.”

“What if something happens and I’m not here?” Kai couldn’t see Lay’s face from his position, but he could hear how distraught he sounded. “I can’t go somewhere safe when you’re here, dealing with a situation that is escalating out of control.”

“You can’t stay,” Suho said firmly. “I won’t risk you.”

Kai turned away out of respect as they kissed again, this time more passionately. He felt completely torn. There was no way he could abandon K at the moment. The country was falling apart, people were being slaughtered in droves, and they were moments away from anarchy. But M was facing the same situation, probably worse with their larger population, and there was nothing Kai thought was more important than Luhan’s safety. He got Lay wanting to stay and fight, but he also understood Suho’s first instinct to protect him. It was an impossible call to make.

Kai heard Suho say, “I care for you very much, Lay. And if you return those feelings in even the slightest way, you have to do this for me. Please. There’s a transport set to go out with some of the generals in a little under an hour. They’re going to be coordinating directly with M and there’s a spot for you on the transport. If you don’t go now …”

Kai couldn’t wait any longer. Taking a few steps back, he cleared his throat, picked up some speed, and then called out, “Commander!” He burst forward as if he’d been at a run the entire time. 

To their credit, Lay and Suho didn’t spring apart as if they’d been doing anything wrong. And Suho asked right away, “What’s the matter?”

Kai said, “We have a major issue. I just came from the communications center. The third regiment reported a new fissure on the outskirts of town. There was no time to request orders, not with the enemy so close to the civilian population. They moved to engage right away.”

Suho gave a firm nod, his jaw set. “I understand. I’m on my way.” He paused, looking to Lay, and then to back to Kai. “Kai,” he said, “has the last transport for the day left? The one moving to meet up with M’s military elite?”

“Not yet,” Kai responded. “D.O. left on the first of the day like you ordered, but there’s still one more set to depart. Chen will be on that one.” Before Suho could ask, Kai rushed to say, “He was held up by a couple of things, but he’s ready to go now. He’ll be meeting with D.O., Xiumin and Sehun before breakfast.”

Suho said, “I want you to personally make sure that Lay is on that transport. I’m making this an order.”

Lay stayed quiet, but his face said he was displeased. 

“Got it,” Kai said, happy to be able to do something. In a lot of ways, Kai felt like he was in the same boat as Lay. They were both gifted by Mama, but neither of them had any sort of ability that was all that useful in battle. The both of them were relegated to behind the scenes work.

“One more thing,” Suho said, reaching down for the bag and handing it to Lay gently. “Kai. I need you to do something else. There’s one more person who needs to be on that transport.”

Kai’s mouth went dry. He knew exactly who Suho was referring to. “Sir,” he said a bit hesitantly. “I agree that he should be on the transport, getting to safety with everyone else important to the cause, but I don’t think he’ll go willingly.”

Suho’s eyes narrowed. “I have let him have his space, Kai. I have given him time, space and everything he’s demanded. I haven’t asked him to fulfill his duty to me or to this country. I have been understanding. I have been a friend. I’m not a heartless monster. I recognize what he lost. But the time has come. He’s practically defenseless and we have to get him out of here.”

Kai shifted a little awkwardly on his feet. “He’s at his old place? The house that he used to live in before joining the military?”

“He is,” Suho said. “Go and get him, drag him out if you have to, and put him on a transport. I don’t care if you have to tie him up and gag him. He’s going. I won’t leave him behind and he can’t fight.”

Kai gave a salute, feeling uncertain about his orders. “I understand, Commander. I’ll get him and Lay and Chen all on the last transport before it leaves.”

Suho caught him before he could leave, saying, “Get yourself on the transport, too. There should be just enough room.”

Kai frowned. “Sir, I don’t need to be on that transport. I can teleport myself away if anything happens.”

Lay was almost forgotten from the both of them as Suho moved to stand in front of him and say, “This time tomorrow I’ll be issuing a full evacuation order. Everyone will be leaving, and it’ll be a mad rush when the civilian population who refused to leave before, realizes that we’re abandoning the city. It will be more than a mad rush. I want you out of here before that happens. I need you to stay safe. You should be gone before all hell breaks loose. Being able to teleport away isn’t going to save you if a crowd swarms you, or someone takes a shot at you that you don’t see coming.”

“I …” Kai felt his eyes widening. “I don’t need to …” He honestly wasn’t sure what to say. “Sir. Commander Suho. I’m a solider. I’m one of your soldiers. I understood what it meant to take my oaths when I did. If anything happens, I accept it.”

“I don’t.” Suho caught the front of Kai’s shirt and pulled at him a little. “You and Lay, Kai. You two are all I have left. I won’t risk anything happening to either of you, so you’re going to get on that transport with him and you are going to ride the entire way until you meet up with M’s Xiumin and Sehun, and you are going to take personal responsibility for making sure nothing happens to either of you until I get there.”

Kai let out a long breath. “I can’t just leave you here by yourself. D.O. is gone already. If I go with Lay and the others you won’t have anyone here, watching your back.”

Suho let go of Kai and instead pulled him into a strong hug, reminding Kai of the first time Suho had hugged him, promising to keep him safe and teach him and give him a place to call home.

“When have I ever needed you to watch my back?” Suho asked with a laugh.

Kai forced a smile in return. “All the time, sir.”

They walked together for a few minutes, the silence hanging heavy between them, then they branched off in separate directions. As Suho headed directly for the war room, Kai told Lay, “The transport leaves in forty-five minutes. I might be coming in hot, certainly with an unwilling companion, and I need you to make sure that Chen is already there. We have to leave on time if we’re going to make it to the agreed rendezvous point by morning.”

“We’ll be ready,” Lay promised. “And good luck.”

Kai huffed out, “Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.”

Of course truthfully Kai didn’t think all the luck in the world was going to help him with Baekhyun. Not now that Chanyeol was dead and gone.

It would have been simple to teleport to the front of the house that Kai had visited half a dozen times when he was younger, but the last thing Baehyun needed was to be startled by anyone right now. It would be a bit of a walk to follow the path up to the house situated high up above the city, but Baekhyun would be able to see him coming and maybe there would be less screaming this time. Kai’s ears were still ringing from the last attempt he’d made to visit his friend.

“What do you want?” Baekhyun asked gruffly when Kai was only a few feet away from the house, and thank small favors there was no actual screaming this time. He was seated on the bench in front of the city, looking out over the land with a vacant, almost disinterested glint to his eyes.

“Can’t I just come say hi?” Kai asked, hands in his pocket. Baekhyun looked like he hadn’t changed his clothes in days, or brushed his hair. In fact he smelled pretty bad as well. 

Baekhyun gave a snort. “The city is burning down around us and you want me to believe that you came to say hi? Unlikely.”

Kai turned back to the city and for the first time he had a high enough vantage point to really look at the damage. The panicked civilians had begun setting fire to things in a desperate attempt to get Suho’s attention just after the last hospital closed. Well, Kai reasoned closed wasn’t the right word. The truth was, right after the first non-gifted citizens began showing signs of the illness that had been attacking those with Mama’s gifts, a good deal of the medical staff had abandoned their posts out of fear. And now there were barely enough to cater to the injuries sustained by the military in battle. People were dying much faster than anticipated, and Lay couldn’t help them all.

Sometimes Kai felt sure everything happening was their fault. They’d gone out into the Deadlands. They’d obviously provoked something, maybe wakened it early, and they had started the chaos that was all around them now. And it was even possible that they’d made it possible for the shadows to strike more clearly at Mama, killing her, and taking out the last line of defense the planet had.

It made Kai’s heart ache, to know he was to blame for every innocent life lost.

“I see Chanyeol’s sister came by.”

At his words Baekhyun turned fierce eyes on Kai, almost daring him to mention the name again.

“I see the box of supplies,” Kai said plainly, pointing to the brown box near Baekhyun’s feet. Chanyeol’s sister had been struggling, more than the rest of them, to take care of Baekhyun. Maybe she saw Baekhyun as her responsibility now, because she showed up every other day or so with food for him and tried to force Baekhyun to look presentable. 

Baekhyun closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “She won’t be back.”

“I don’t know about that,” Kai said with a chuckle. “She’s incredibly stubborn. You can tell she and Chanyeol are related.”

“Were.”

Kai flinched.

“And she won’t be back because she’s going to die. We’re all going to die. It’s happening right now.”

Kai felt his fingers curl into fists but he forced himself to remain calm. “There’s nothing written in stone that says we’re going to die. We’re going to fight, that’s for sure. We might die, but that’s not guaranteed.”

“Do you want me to list the facts?” Baekhyun asked, eyes still closed. “We thought we had until the solar alignment, and that’s still five days away, but here we are fighting battles we can’t win. Several of the guardians have exhausted their power boosts, the very same boost that are supposed to help us win, and none of that even matters because we don’t have twelve guardians anymore. We have eleven and a pile of ash.”

“Hey!” Kai snapped, taking a deliberate step forward. “I understand that you are in tremendous pain. You just lost the person you love more than anything else in this world, but he was my friend, too. I lost him too. And you do not get to talk about him like that. Not when you couldn’t even show up to the funeral to pay your respects. The king of M came for it, but you couldn’t pull yourself out of bed and put on a brave front. So just watch what you say.”

Baekhyun cracked his eyes open. “Mama is dead. Luhan’s lost his connection to her, and I’ve lost my connection to Luhan, along with my gifts. The life tree is rubble and the planet is crumbling around us. What do you want from me? Leave me alone.”

“I don’t care,” Kai ground out. “As long as there is a single, innocent person that I need to protect, I’m going to try. That’s what it means to be a guardian. You might have abandoned that part of you, but I haven’t. The rest of us haven’t either.”

“I just don’t care anymore,” Baekhyun said honestly, eyes opening all the way, revealing incredible sadness. “You think I’m being callous and heartless on purpose, but the truth is I just don’t care about anything anymore. I’m tried and I just want to sleep until I can be with him.”

At first they’d been filled with anxiety that Baekhyun would do something drastic. They’d taken turns watching him, keeping him away from anything that he could use to hurt himself. Now there were other things they had to prioritize, and Kai was content with the belief that Baekhyun still believed he couldn’t end his own life without forfeiting his right to be with Chanyeol in the afterlife. It was an old, almost archaic belief that a lot of people had left behind over the decades, but it held with Baekhyun. Thankfully.

“Lay and Chen are evacuating to a rendezvous point with some of the other guardians and military leaders from K in about a half hour,” Kai said. “I’m supposed to go with them, and tomorrow Commander Suho is going to call to abandon the city. We can’t hold it, and the shadows have been advancing on us for several days now. M isn’t much better off, between their own shadows and their people going crazy.”

“Where do you think you can go that’s safe?” Baekhyun asked flatly. 

“We’re not going away to be safe,” Kai said back right away. “We’re going to strategize, pull our forces, strengthen ourselves, and then figure out what we can do before our time runs out. We’re pulling back, but we’re not trying to keep ourselves safe.”

“Huh.”

Kai rallied himself. “The thing is, Baekhyun, that I have orders from Commander Suho. I would really like you to go there with me willingly, but if you won’t, I’m authorized to make you.”

Baekhyun’s head cocked and he gave Kai an odd look. “You what?”

Slowly, Kai repeated, “Commander Suho has given the order that you are to be evacuated with Lay, Chen and myself. Your compliance isn’t necessary. But I respect you, and no matter how you’ve been treating me and other others, we’re still friends. I want you to come with me on your feet, head held high. I just don’t need you to.”

Baekhyun fell quiet and Kai desperately hoped he was taking a minute to think over the words. Then Baekhyun shifted and Kai could make out the small, decorative box next to him on the bench. The sight made Kai shudder a little. He knew without needed to be told that Chanyeol’s ashes were in that box. And Baekhyun likely hadn’t let it out of his sight since Suho had delivered it to him after the memorial service.

Unexpectedly, Baekhyun asked, “What if you had lost Luhan?”

Kai couldn’t even ponder that. “Baekyhun--”

“No!” he snapped, “What if something had happened to Luhan while you had been hundreds of miles away, wandering around a desert like a fool?”

“We were ambushed.” Kai moved forward slowly, perching on the edge of the bench, away from the ashes. “We went to investigate something and we were caught off guard. It was an accident that Chanyeol came into contact with a shadow and caught the infection.”

Baekhyun pulled the box onto his lap, staring at it. “He took the hit meant for me. Because I was an idiot, and had to go touching things that I didn’t understand. I was a target even before that, but I made myself even more of one after that, and I still let Chanyeol be around me, like he wasn’t going to be endangered. And then when I was in the line of fire, he pushed me out of the way and saved my life.”

Truthfully, Kai remembered very little of everything that had happened, resulting in Chanyeol’s infection and then death. He’d hit his head badly, concussed himself to the point of being unable to focus, and it was probably a miracle he was able to get himself and Chanyeol back to the palace.

He did remember taking his orb after that, boosting his ability just enough to get to Lay and get him back. 

But what did any of that matter when it had already been too late for Chanyeol? They’d had to stand around him, trying desperately not to let their grief show while Lay held his hand, soothed him and promised Chanyeol that he was going to be just fine. Chanyeol had begged and pleaded for them not to let Baekhyun see him as his flesh rotted away, and it had been nothing but a godsend that they’d been unable to find Baekhyun and D.O. at the time.

Maybe Baekhyun hated them now because he and D.O. had been lost in the Deadlands for days afterwards. By the time they’d been found, dehydrated and desperate, near death, Chanyeol had been cremated already out of fear of spreading the illness.

They’d robbed Baekhyun of his chance to pay his respects to Chanyeol’s body, and it hadn’t even mattered, because they’d brought the illness straight to the heart of M, and there’d been no stopping it after that.

“I’m not going with you,” Baekhyun said bluntly. “I’m of no use to you. I burnt myself out. There’s no light left in me. There’s nothing I could do to help.”

“You’re still a guardian!” Kai shouted at him. “You belong with us. And frankly, even if you weren’t a guardian, you’re our friend. You’re our brother, and we’re going to keep you breathing as long as possible. That means you’re coming with us.”

Kai watched as Baekhyun bent forward, curling over the box.

Above them the dark blue sky quickly turned black and rain began to pour visibly in the distance. Suho was clearly on the move, maybe going out personally to see to the third regiment. 

“I feel like ….” Baekhyun tried, shoulders trembling, “like the best part of me died. The only part that mattered.”

Kai rocked up to his feet and exclaimed, “Part of me is happy he’s not here to see this, you know? I really thought you’d be the last person in the world to give up and just let those monsters get away with doing this to him and to us. I thought you had a stronger sense of honor than that. But I guess I was wrong. I’m almost ashamed for you. And for Chanyeol.”

Baekyhun shot up, box going to the side as he shouted, “How dare you! Chanyeol is dead. The person I love is dead. We were going to get married and have kids, and we had a long life together ahead of us. Chanyeol was an amazing person. He had the best sense of humor, he was selfless, and he was kind and brave and how dare you!”

“Then stop acting like this!” Kai gave him a hard shove, sending him sprawling to the ground. “You want to know the difference between me and Luhan, and you and Chanyeol? You actually got to have him. You got to have him without having to share him. You could love each other without having to hide it, and yeah, you could have gotten married and had kids.”

“Luhan is still alive,” Baekhyun bit back. “Chanyeol is not.”

Kai rubbed a hand over his forehead, a headache starting to pulse. “Baekhyun, you asked me what I would do if it was Luhan who died?”

“I bet you can’t wait to tell me in the most preachy voice you can manage.”

Kai moved over to offer him a hand up and told Baekhyun, “If Luhan had died, I’d be just as upset as you are right now. I’d probably push people away, too, and lash out at them. I’d feel sorry for myself and just be so damn angry. I would feel like my life had no purpose anymore. But do you know what would happen just after that?”

Wordlessly Baekhyun shook his head, making no more to get to his feet.

“Then,” Kai said definitively, “I’d go after those bastards with every bit of me left. I’d make them pay, even if it cost me everything, but I wouldn’t have anything less than vengeance. I would kill them all.”

Lightening flashed in the distance, concentrated and powerful, and Kai supposed that was Chen joining in. Of course Chen was going to help. Chen wasn’t the sort to let anyone put themselves on the line while he sat back. But Chen going to help Suho also meant that things were more desperate than Kai had realized. The third regiment had been comprised of almost a thousand men stationed near the capital for the very sole reason of keeping it safe, and they had five soldiers with abilities within their ranks. Anything that required them to seek help was … extremely bad.

“Kai?”

“Oh?” Kai turned to look at Baekhyun, shaking his head. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.” He shook his hand out to Baekhyun once more. “I hope you’ve been thinking, too.”

Baekhyun groaned as he stood, then reached back for the box that held Chanyeol’s ashes and held it gingerly. He asked, “If Luhan were in this box, you’d fight? You’d make them pay?”

“I would.” Kai dipped his head. “I would give my life to make sure the person I loved had their justice.”

“We can’t win,” Baekyhun said softly. “I think even Luhan knows that now.”

“We can fight. That’s good enough for me,” Kai decided.

“Chanyeol would fight.”

Kai didn’t doubt that. “That’s how Chanyeol was.”

There was something changing on Baekhyun’s face, Kai just couldn’t pin down what it was yet. Maybe an acceptance of some sort.

“I meant it when I said I don’t have my ability anymore,” Baekhyun reminded. “I can’t do anything on the battlefield. My light was my greatest contribution.”

Kai reached out and rapped Baekhyun on the side of the head with his knuckles. He remarked, “Are you kidding me? Everyone knows you’re the brains behind Suho. I mean, Commander Suho is smart, but he’s more an action guy. You were always with him, from the moment he inherited his position, helping him make the hard choices, supporting him, and strategizing better than anyone else in K. There were a lot of people who didn’t even think you had an ability for a long time, and they didn’t care because you’re so brilliant. You didn’t need your light to be Suho’s most important war asset back then, and you don’t need it to be one now. Having power doesn’t make you a guardian. It’s what you choose to do in the face of adversity that makes you one.”

Baekhyun made an odd noise, catching Kai off guard. Then he made it again, and it almost sounded like Baekhyun was choking.

No. Wait. A second later Kai realized he wasn’t choking. He was laughing.

“Did you write that inspirational speech all by yourself?” Baekhyun demanded, laughing and smiling for the first time in forever. He was shaking with that laughter, almost leaning on Kai for support. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever … I can’t believe that actually came out of your mouth … you are unbelievable Kai.”

“Very funny,” Kai tried to say sternly, but it wasn’t long before he was laughing too. And it felt so good.

Eventually the laughter died down and Baekhyun rubbed away the wetness at his eyes.

“Baekhyun?” Kai ventured. They were still short on time, especially with what was happening with Chen and Suho. He hedged hesitantly to Baekyhun, “Want to come help me kick some ass?”

Baekhyun posed, “Did you know Chanyeol’s birthday is on the alignment? Of all the coincidences, right?”

“I didn’t know.”

Baekhyun patted the top of the box, then put it down on the bench and reached a hand out for Kai’s shoulder. He gripped it tightly and gave a firm look. “I’d been so busy I hadn’t been able to get him a birthday present ahead of time. I still don’t have one. But I was thinking, getting him a little justice wouldn’t be such a bad birthday present. Right?”

Kai felt like his face might split with the smile stretching across it. “Baekhyun, that sounds like the perfect present to me.”


	23. Kris

If Kris had had anyone to spare, he would have sent them to Suho to help. Three days after Kris had ordered a mandatory evacuation for all residents and employees of the palace, he and Luhan had fled, along with a select few to the agreed upon meeting spot with K. K’s higher ranked officials, Suho’s cabinet members, and a few of K’s guardians had begun showing up looking weary and beaten not long after. But Suho himself had been held up, trying to buy some time for his people while the shadows overran K’s capital. 

There was no one to spare to help. M’s army was disastrously shrunken after their own bid to hold M’s major cities and the palace, and they were nearly defeated. Even joining with whatever was left over from K’s military wasn’t going to rival what M had been.

So it was no small relief when Suho finally made his way to them, both Kai and Lay waiting impatiently next to Kris for him to explain that yes, he was okay, and no, there was nothing left to K’s capital. Or the surrounding lands. Or her people.

Kris held out his hand and shook with Suho genuinely, telling him, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

It had taken Kris by surprise, how worried he felt not just for Suho, but for every person that had previously been from K. He supposed this was the tipping point where they stopped distinguishing themselves by their boarders, and came together as something more. They weren’t just K and M now, they were simply Exo.

“Things got a little hairy towards the end, but I’m here now.”

He looked tired, in need of rest and food, and they at least had time enough for that. “Lay,” Kris requested, giving him a nod, “go ahead and take Commander Suho to relax for a while, and makes sure he eats something.”

“I don’t need to rest,” Suho protested, even as Lay looped an arm around him.

“You look like you haven’t had anything decent to eat in days,” Kris shot back, but tried to sound good natured. “Let Lay fuss over you. He’s really good at it. Take some time. We’re safe for now, at least. There hasn’t been any movement in this area thus far, and I think we’ve managed to get here undetected. I have no doubt we’ll draw the enemy eventually, but until then, we can afford to take care of ourselves.”

Kris could see Suho leaning a bit more on Lay than he probably wanted to, Kai hovering nearby. Then the commander asked, “What’s the itinerary look like? Is everyone accounted for? What are our plans about--”

“Commander,” Kris broke in, forcing him to stop. “Everyone expected from your side, and almost everyone from mine is accounted for. Later tonight the twelve of us will talk about what we’re going to do, or if we can do anything. Tomorrow morning will be for us strategizing the best way to use what’s left of our armies.”

“Eleven,” Kai broke in.

Kris frowned. “Eleven?”

Solemnly, Kai reminded, “There are only eleven of us now.”

Kris had forgotten, if only momentarily. Chanyeol was gone, turned to ash by an ill fated mission and brush with the enemy. That took them down in the power department, and it left them unsure with how to proceed as guardians. Were all twelve of them needed to fight and win? Would twelve even have mattered? There probably wasn’t a way to tell until the very end, which was something they were inching towards.

“Go get some rest,” Kris insisted. “I’m going to talk to Tao. He’s coordinating with Baekhyun to successfully bring our two forces together. We have to find a way to fight as one, and get rid of any prejudices anyone might be holding onto. I think those two are going to make it happen.”

Suho let out a chuckle. “I hear Baekhyun is pushing everyone to the limit.”

“He’s crazy focused,” Kai said. “But it’s nice to see, considering the alternative.” 

“It is,” Suho agreed.

As Suho and Lay headed off, Kai going in his own direction, Kris went directly to the section of their encampment dedicated to their military forces. Tao was easy to spot, overlooking the field in front of him, watching Baekhyun work with their mixed soldiers.

“How are things going?” Kris asked, arms crossed in front of him. “They look pretty good.” At least for what the had. “What are the estimates?”

Tao gave a huff and said, “We’re down to a dozen officers from each side, and that’s a problem. If we divide them up against the forces we have, that stretches us thin. But at least they’re more scared of Baekhyun than they are of working together. I think they’re going to unite over their mutual dislike of how mean he is to them, rather than anything else.”

Kris felt the barest of grins stretch out on his face. It was true, a lot of the soldiers were quite young and seemed to be intimated by Baekhyun. Kris couldn’t say for sure about K’s addition to their joint army, but almost all of the men and women making up M’s forces had never seen real battle. These were the soldiers who had worked guarding the palace, and in the civil department. Most all of the true career soldiers had gone into battle right away, during the first few days of conflict, and almost all of them were gone now.

“How many with abilities?”

The look on Tao’s face wasn’t good. And it was verified when he said, “Not counting us? Seven.”

“Seven?” Kris asked, the number even lower than expected. The illness had taken out a majority of the people gifted by Mama almost right away, and they’d also been first priority targets to the shadows in the first battles, but seven was such a low number. Seven wasn’t enough.

“I know,” Tao said tersely. “I know.”

Kris sighed, “Keep at it. Run them hard today, but let them rest tonight. We might be on the move as soon as tomorrow.”

Before Kris could go, Tao called out, “The solar alignment is in two days.”

“That’s been at the front of my mind for a while now.” 

“Do you think that’s when the situation will explode around us?” Tao wondered. “When we’ll see the actual enemy, and not just these foot soldiers of theirs?”

Kris could only shrug in return. His guess was no better than anyone else’s, except for maybe Luhan’s. But Luhan was barely talking to anyone these days. It was a fight to get him out of bed, to eat, and to do anything else. Maybe losing his connection to Mama had damaged him badly, Kris didn’t know, but Luhan wasn’t the same. Not even Kai, who seemed to work miracles with Luhan in general, could get much out of him. Luhan, much to Kris’ dismay, was seemingly wilting before his eyes, too much like the life tree.

Speaking of, that was the next thing on Kris’ agenda. 

“Your majesty,” Xiumin greeted when Kris passed into the tent that he and Luhan were sharing. The shorter man rose from the chair he’d been sitting in, put aside a map of the region he’d been studying, and bowed. 

Kris spotted Luhan on the sleeping cot just a second later. He was curled onto one side, arms tucked in tightly, and eyes closed. He seemed to be sleeping deeply, with a steady rise and fall to his chest. Luhan was often in bed now, but he was rarely sleeping. 

“Is he asleep?” Kris asked quietly. In the three days that they’d been at their new camp Luhan had barely left the spacious tent, but neither had Xiumin left Luhan’s side. Xiumin had always been overprotective with Luhan, but he’d been even more so now, even running Sehun away from Luhan. Sehun, Kris had to give credit, had been doing his best to pull Luhan out of his slump, visiting frequently. Luhan seemed to endure the visits well, though maybe he was simply putting on a show for the younger man. Regardless, the effect was not long lasting.

Xiumin made to answer when Luhan called out, “No. I’m just resting.” He pushed a hand up to his forehead, eyes still closed. “I have a headache.”

Xiumin gave a silent nod.

Kris went to sit carefully on the edge of the bed, replacing Luhan’s hand with his own. “A headache? Do you want me to get Lay?”

Luhan’s fingers curled around Kris’ hand and he held the cool fingers to his heated skin. “Lay has better things to do right now. Isn’t the Commander arriving soon? Anyway, it wouldn’t help for long.”

Kris’ fingers brushed up into Luhan’s bangs soothingly. “Commander Suho just arrived. He’s the last of K that we expect to see. The rest, I suppose like M, is lost now. But what do you mean Lay wouldn’t help for long?”

Luhan sighed. “It would come back. The headache. The pain.”

Taking a step forward, Xiumin volunteered, “He’s been getting pretty bad headaches since Mama and her life tree died. Some he can handle and ignore, but others are debilitating. He’s having one of the latter ones now.”

Kris felt a pang of guilt. “You have these frequently? Why didn’t you tell me when they first started?”

Finally Luhan opened his eyes, meeting Kris’ worried gaze. He offered a half smile and said, “Because I knew we’d lose M soon. I knew you’d have much more to deal with than my condition. I also knew the last thing you needed was to be distracted by me.”

“Me caring about your health and welfare is not a distraction,” Kris argued, sinking further onto the cot and stretching out along Luhan. Behind them Xiumin excused himself quietly and Kris let himself get lost in the feeling of Luhan’s warmth.

“I’m okay.”

Kris asked, “Is this because of what happened to Mama, cousin? Are you hurting because she’s … gone?”

Slowly, Luhan nodded. “She was there in my mind always, Kris, from the very beginning of my life. Most of those gifted by Mama don’t manifest until puberty, but I had her with me since birth. I couldn’t always understand her, and we weren’t always communicating, but she was always there. When she died, part of my mind was ripped away. Part of me is dying too. It’s painful, and Lay can only dull the pain. It’s not something he can take away indefinitely. So why should I inconvenience him when he’s trying to enjoy the last brief moments of peace he has with the one he loves?”

Did that meant this was something Luhan was going to have to deal with for the rest of their lives? It was a terrible thought. Provided they won again the shadows, Luhan would have to assist in helping to rebuild M. How would he be able to fully participate laid up? What about when they wanted children? Or wanted to travel?

“Stop looking so sour,” Luhan requested, face pressing into Kris’ shoulder. You’re not handsome when you make that face.”

Kris nudged him playfully. “I’m always handsome.”

Outside the tent they could hear the hustle and bustle of the encampment, people rushing to their assigned tasks, throwing around disheartening information about the fall of K and the destruction of M. But if he tried hard enough, Kris could just block it out, and pretend like there was nothing but himself and Luhan, and the bond they’d shared almost since birth.

Finally he had to ask, “Do you think you’ll be able to get up later tonight? All the guardians are getting together for a meeting. You don’t need to go to the strategy planning meeting that Suho and I are holding tomorrow, but you are a guardian, and you should be there for the one tonight.”

Luhan laced his fingers through Kris’. “I’ll be there, cousin.”

True to his word, though a little shaky on his feet, when the eleven of them convened later that night, Luhan was alert and present. He took a seat between Xiumin and Kris, folded his hands on the table, and waited.

“The matter at hand,” Suho said, taking the lead and looking much healthier than his earlier arrival, “is that there are only eleven of us now. We have ten orbs. We know how to use them, and what they do. So what is our plan of action?”

“You think we need a plan?” Baekhyun asked, side eying the lot of them. “We need to make a single, preemptive strike and wipe out every single one of those bastards possible. We coordinate ourselves, hit the hotspots, and use all the power we have to end the problem once and for all.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Kai argued back. “There are more hotspots than there are of us, and new ones pop up all the time.”

“What’s the alternative then?” Xiumin asked. “We use our orbs one by one, in battle after battle, until we’re out of power and out of fodder?” 

Sehun cut in, “No matter what we do, we’re screwed.”

Underneath the collapsible table they’d set up, Kris felt Luhan’s hand find his own and squeeze tightly. 

“I think we should wait to do anything right now,” Suho spoke up, gesturing towards Chen who was holding the book that Baekyhun had hidden away years ago. It had been safely in D.O.’s possession while Baekhyun had taken a leave of absence after Chanyeol’s death. “The solar alignment is in only a couple days now, and if that book is right, we have bigger things to worry about than these fissures popping up everywhere.”

Chen delicately opened the book and flipped to the very end where they could all see the rough sketch of the truly monstrous creature depicted. “Much bigger,” Chen commented. 

Suho continued, “If that thing shows up during the alignment, like the books indicates, I say we use what we have to take it down. If it doesn’t appear, we can reconvene afterwards to decide what our backup plan is.”

Gruffly, Kris added, “I don’t want to have to fight that thing without a power boost. Do any of you?”

There were slow but deliberate shakes of heads around the room. At least it was a small comfort that they could agree on that much.

“What about Chanyeol’s orb?” Kai broached carefully. “Is it completely useless now? If we can use it, we have to.”

“It might be dead in the water,” Lay said, and if anyone other than Baekhyun and Luhan knew about the subject at hand, it was probably Lay. Kris knew for a fact that Luhan had been patiently telling Lay everything he knew, and Lay had been studying the book during his stay in K. “Each orb is keyed to us specifically, much like the book only causes a reaction on our skin when we touch it.”

“Luhan?” Kris asked, trying to draw him into the conversation. Luhan was a steady, unnatural pale all the time now, but he looked like he was ready to lay down again. “Anything you can add?” It also seemed as if Luhan was struggling to focus on the meeting itself. How could Kris let him go out into battle if he was like this? 

Almost lamely, Luhan said softly, “I know I’ve had answers for you in the past, but I don’t know now. I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ll be able to use it, but I can’t say for sure. I can’t exactly ask Mama.” He slumped back in his chair, his hand almost slack in Kris’.

Across the room, carefully guarded by Sehun, were the two boxes containing the orbs in question. Luhan’s eyes were locked on them but Kris couldn’t begin to guess what he was thinking about. 

“Kris,” Suho said, all titles aside. “We need to tell the generals, and the few members of your council left. We need to let everyone else in on this. If we have to use our orbs and go into battle, they’ll have to get the hell out of the way. The last thing we need is friendly fire.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kai said, sarcasm dripping from his words, “They’re going to take this great.”

“Being a little positive wouldn’t kill you,” D.O. said.

“No,” Kai agreed. “There are plenty of other things for that.”

There were still more things to talk about as the meeting stretched out through the night. They worked through the best way to combine their powers, who needed extra time to access their full potential, and who was best kept behind the scenes. They tried to form battle plans, offensive and defensive, and all the while Kris watched Luhan slide more and more from him in terms of awareness. Kris felt like Luhan wasn’t the only one.

When they finally adjourned for the night, all of them dragging their feet, Kris looped an arm around Luhan’s waist and led him back to their tent.

“Tao,” Kris said quietly when they reached the front of the tent, “Don’t stay up tonight. Tomorrow is going to be just as hard as today. Maybe worse. Go get some sleep.”

Tao’s face set in determination. “My job is--”

“Go sleep,” Kris offered again, this time a little harder. “I’m perfectly safe. And I need you tomorrow at your best. You’ll need a couple of hours of sleep if you’re going to be of any help.”

“I …”

“Tao,” Luhan said, surprising Kris. “Come sleep with us.”

Tao’s eyes widened almost comically. “Your majesty?”

Luhan reached out for Tao, sliding a cold hand around the back of his neck. “My husband might be in love with you, but you’re precious to me too. Come to bed.”

It sounded odd, and the matter of getting it all sorted out was even odder, but eventually the three of them ended up cramped on the sleeping cot, legs twisted together. Kris found himself squished between the two people he loved the most, and he couldn’t bring himself to complain once.

He did offer, however, once Tao had turned down the portable lantern hanging across the tent and climbed under the covers, “This isn’t quite how I ever imagined my marriage bed looking. Though I bet this is supposed to be a king’s secret fantasy.”

“Quiet,” Luhan said, but there was a tease to his voice. “And don’t get use to this.”

Tao was tense on Kris’ other side, but only until Luhan dropped off with a soft wheeze. 

“I can get out now,” Tao offered in the darkness of the tent.

“No.” Kris caught his hand under the blanket and pulled it until he had it up to his chest. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“This doesn’t exactly feel proper.”

“We’re past proper at this point.”

Kris felt it the moment that Tao sagged, relaxing into Kris’ side, a reluctant hand resting on his stomach. 

“Tao,” Kris said quietly, aware of how lightly Luhan slept now. He couldn’t help looking up at the ceiling of the tent, even if his vision was blurred by the darkness. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” Tao sounded confused, but Kris could only feel regret. “I’m sorry I had to marry Luhan. I love him, and I accepted our marriage, but it wasn’t my choice.”

Again, Tao was tense. “I always understood. From the beginning.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to.” In a perfect world Kris imagined he and Tao could have had a public relationship. It wouldn’t have mattered the difference in their stations, and Kris wouldn’t have been promised away to someone that he had only brotherly affection for. In a perfect world, they could have gotten married and had a family. “Because I love you, and people who love each other should get to be together. I would have sold my soul to get to be with you.”

Tao’s head rested on Kris’ shoulder and the injustice of it all was all he could think of. It made him angry.

Finally, Tao said, “Just being near you is enough. If I can keep you safe, and be with you in any way, it’s enough.”

“Tao,” Kris said, voice hoarse. “Damn.”

He couldn’t help himself, not with Luhan so understanding and Tao so close. Kris couldn’t help leaning down in the dark, though it wasn’t easy, and kissing Tao. He caught his mouth partially open, completely surprised, but more than accepting. 

They shared nothing but simple, sweet kisses. But in that moment it felt like just enough.

“I love you,” Tao mumbled tiredly. 

Kris finally closed his eyes against the darkness of the tent and let himself start to fall asleep. With Luhan curled into his side, and Tao braced to the other, it was the best Kris had slept in months, if not years.

So naturally, after the best night of his life, Kris was woken to the worst morning that he could recall. 

The ground was shaking so violently and Luhan was shouting so loudly that Kris was momentarily disoriented. He felt Tao topple off the sleeping cot with a rough yell, and then the flap to the tent was throw aside to make way for a sprinting Xiumin.

“What’s going on?” Kris demanded ,sliding off the cot and pulling Tao strongly up to his feet. The rumbles coming from the ground had died to something manageable, but it still felt horrible under Kris’ feet. Unnatural.

“I’d say the enemy knows where we are,” Xiumin said, eyes darting around. “A new fissure just opened up right outside camp. Baekhyun’s already rousing the troops. We’ll be ready in fifteen. Suho is waiting for you with General Nam and General Choi.”

“Tao,” Kris said, heading directly for his battle armor in the corner of the tent. “Go with Xiumin. I’ll meet you for an assessment in a couple of minutes.”

There was clear hesitation on Xiumin’s face, and he traced it to Luhan was sitting up on the sleeping cot, flushed and shaking slightly. “Maybe,” Xiumin offered, “I should stay here. Just in case.”

“Kai and Lay will be staying with Luhan,” Kris said, ignoring the need for privacy and changing into a heavier, more durable shirt. “Clear?”

When Tao and Xiumin were gone, Kris turned back to Luhan telling him, “Lay will be here any second. We talked about this, remember? And Kai will get you out of here if need be. I’m not growing any fonder of him, Luhan, but I trust him with you.”

“I don’t need protecting,” Luhan told him pointedly. “I’m a little under the weather right now, but I’m capable of taking care of myself. I should be going out on the battlefield myself.”

Kris quickly did up the buttons on his jacket, trying to get rid of the last bit of sleep running through him. “You’re weakened right now, and don’t try and tell me you aren’t. Ever since something happened to Mama, you haven’t been the same. I have no doubt you could kick some ass if necessary, but you’re kind of our secret weapon as far as abilities are. You don’t set foot in battle unless the rest of us need you. Desperately. Understand?”

“I will fight,” Luhan said, climbing off the bed to stand. “When the time is right, I will.”

“This isn’t it.” Kris rushed over to kiss the side of Luhan’s head. “Take care of things here while I’m gone. You know you’re in charge.”

Kris knew he’d won the situation with Luhan the second he felt his cousin hug him tightly, making him swear to come back to him in one piece.

“No worries,” Kris said, trying not to let his worry show. It had been quite a while since he’d seen any sort of conflict. When the shadows had been creeping through M, and then eventually when they overtook the palace, Kris had allowed himself to be kept far away, ensuring his safety. There was no hiding now, however.

“Tell me everything we know,” Kris said when he made it to Suho’s side atop an overlooking hill.

When Xiumin had said that a fissure had formed just outside of their encampment he hadn’t been exaggerating. From the higher vantage point Kris could see their united force stretched out across the land in front of them, and further behind the soldiers, was blackened land. The crack was visible, and it wouldn’t be long before shadows were pouring from it.

“It was really only a matter of time,” Suho said, confirming what Kris had already suspected. “We know they’re especially drawn to us. The most we can do now is minimize the damage they’re going to try and inflict, and keep them away from the camp.

Legs pumping hard, Chen rushed to their side, sweat pooling across his brow. “The first and second infantry is ready to go at any moment you cal for them. I’m going with them when they deploy. I’m going to light those bastards up.”

“Be careful,” Kris found himself snapping. With Baekhyun’s ability seemingly gone, and Chanyeol dead, Chen was next affective, his lightening just bright enough to both distract and destroy the shadows. It also made him a major target.

Chen flashed a thumbs up, then bowed respectfully. “Sehun is going to watch my back. If I miss any of those things, he’s going to blow them to kingdom come.”

A bit anxiously, Suho said, “Sehun doesn’t have any military training. He hasn’t even mastered his ability.”

Wiry, Kris said, “We’ll call this on the job training.” One hell of a first day, apparently.

“Okay,” Suho said simply. “Then let’s get going.”

It was apparent to Kris from the first moments of the battle that something was drastically different. In the past, reports and first hand accounts had indicated that the shadow forms could be defeated in a series of ways, ranging from specialized attacks, to simple, old fashion methods. The biggest issue always seemed to be avoiding contact and infection. It was different now.

“Something is wrong!” Suho called out. He and Kris were shoulder to shoulder, surveying the battle in front of them, neither engaged just yet. “There are more of them than usual, and they’re tougher.”

Kris’ eyes easily picked out D.O., bringing the ground up around himself in an impressive show of strength to protect a nearby Xiumin who was flinging the full might of his ice ability at the three shadows that had managed to surround him.

Chen’s lightening flashed a warning in the sky, Sehun’s wind whipping around them, and then in the chaos that they combination created, Tao zipped about, slashing through the enemy with his sword, his actions more effective than his ability.

The ground gave a sudden lurch that knocked Kris off his feet and into Suho who barely caught him. At first Kris had believed it to be due to D.O., but then Baekhyun, who was near Kris’ side, yelled, “There’s a second fissure forming!”

Their men were falling fast. The first infantry had nearly been demolished, the third was deploying, and with the second weakening, Kris didn’t know if they’d have to send the fourth in. They couldn’t afford to lose all of their men so quickly, especially in one felled swoop. If the fourth was lost with the first three, there’d only be the fifth, currently assigned to stay in the encampment. Less than Four hundred. 

“Okay,” Kris decided righting himself. “We have to get control of this right away.”

In thought, Baekhyun pressed his lips. “I think I have an idea. I might be able to get Chanyeol’s orb to work for us. If you let me go now.”

As Suho charged down to the battle, Kris turned back to Baekhyun, demanded sharply, “You think you can get back to the encampment quickly?”

“As fast as my legs can take me!” Baekhyun called back, having to struggle to speak over the sound of the hurricane building around them.

Signaling to Tao that he was ready to move, Kris told Baekhyun, “Go get Chanyeol’s orb. Maybe today is the day we get lucky.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Baekhyun cut back. But a second later he was sprinting back towards the encampment, one of Kris’ better generals surging forward to fill his void.

When Kris had been young he’d very much held the position that his ability was great for show, and there was absolutely nothing better than soaring free through the sky. But the ability of flight itself was not especially desirable. He was going to be king. He’d known as much since he was old enough to understand what the word meant. Tao had the ability to manipulate time. Chen had his lightening. Xiumin could shoot deadly ice at people. And even Luhan, when he chose to use his ability, was powerful beyond belief. But flight? What good was flight?

He’d developed his ability early into puberty, then suppressed it down with a fit of displeasure.

Of course shortly after that had come his dragon, roaring to life and taking out the roof of the entire eastern wing of the palace. After that he’d been just a little more appreciative of his flight, especially with the new way people looked at him.

The thing was, his dragon was fickle at best. Kris had mastered control of summoning the beast long ago, but that control once it was present, was tenuous at best, and as such Kris tried to let him out as little as possible. 

But this, Kris concluded, was the perfect opportunity to let the dragon out.

“Chen!” Kris shouted, trusting Tao to watch out for him as he pushed his way through the fighting. It was slow going, but eventually he was near enough to be heard. “Light it up!” He could see that Chen was tiring, his attacks getting less powerful with time, but he needed the last effort from Chen.

The second the lightening flashed, crashing to the ground around them, Kris shot into the air. His dragon flew with him, bright and blazing in the sky like a golden comet.

Then he did the thing that he’d been taught never to do. He let go of the control he had worked so hard to reach in the first place. It was a risk, one that Kris wouldn’t have taken out of anything but desperation, but he could tell they were all stretched to their limit. There was no time for control. Not since he couldn’t find Suho in the crowd, and Sehun’s wind was gone completely, leaving the air feeling stale.

As the dragon streaked through the air, diving down to rip through shadows in a blaze of gold, Kris searched desperately for his friends. They’d started in a strict, compact formation, but time and destruction had given way to a scattered scene, and it didn’t look like they were winning.

From the corner of his eye Kris saw Tao stumble suddenly to the side. His sword clattered to the ground and a shadow was on him. 

He heard himself screaming, the dragon rumbling, and then the sky was raining fire.

“Tao!” Kris toppled from the air, unable to right himself. He felt the ground come up hard, knocking more than just air from him. He wheezed in a heap, pain burning through his chest and neck, unable to move. But he was on his back, and he could see the sky above him, red like the brightest, most brilliant sunset, rippling with power.

“Kris!”

Tao skidded into view, bracing himself over the king. 

Kris could see his dragon flinging itself through the air still, but this time it was accompanied by a magnificent phoenix. And they were beautiful together, swooping along, twining perfectly.

“It’s beautiful,” Kris said, barely able to speak.

“Hold still!” Tao folded over Kris protectively as fire erupted around them. Most of the shadows around them were destroyed instantly, but Kris felt the flare of the fire burn against his skin. If they didn’t move soon they’d be killed too.

“Commander Suho,” Kris mumbled into Tao’s ear. “He can use his ability to buy us time.”

Tao moved from his protective hunch to look around desperately for the commander. Most of what was left of their united forces were crouched on the ground, trying to avoid both the dragon and the phoenix, and then the fire. “I can’t see him! But he’s probably too exhausted to help much anyway.”

The fire was growing more strong, the sky brightening and Kris had no doubt that they’d all burn. But at least they’d all burn together, the shadows included.

“I can hold it for a little!” Tao said, the strain already in his voice. 

Kris blinked at the fire around them. It had stopped. Most of it was still in midair, and the creases on Tao’s face, along with the shaking of his body, said it was his doing. 

“How long is a little?” Kris asked, noticing that Tao’s time field had extended to almost all of them, catching just the fire and allowing a good deal of people the time to seek cover. The ones that were able to. The amount of control involved in catching just the fire was impressive, but there was no way it was going to last for long. They probably had minutes, if that.

“Concentrate,” Kris said quietly, reaching up to hold a hand to Tao’s neck. “You can do this. I know you can.”

With only a slight tremble, Tao concentrated.

“Your majesty!” Xiumin crashed to their side, the side of his face swollen with what would be an impressive bruise. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Get out of here,” Kris demanded, wheezing. He’d hurt his ribs, he was certain of it. The fall probably should have killed him. It still might.

Voice cracking, Tao demanded, “Is that Luhan?”

The fire around them held for only a second more, and then it was falling again.

It was a strain for Kris to tilt his head far enough back to see Luhan, but when he did, he could make out the slim figure up on the edge of the overlook. Baekhyun stood next to him, anchoring him in place as Luhan extended both hands.

There was a pulse of power, some of it painfully pushing Kris further to the ground, but suddenly the heat was gone. 

“He’s pushing it away,” Xiumin remarked, watching the fire above them quiver for a moment and then dart away to the distance. “How can he be doing that?”

All of the fire was going, flung up from where it had come so close to burning them. Moments later the air was clearing from the heavy smell of smoke and soot, the fire still burning, but a much safer distance away, as if it was merely laying in wait.

“This is nothing,” Kris said, feeling pride in Luhan. “Wait until he really gets going.”

As a presence of power that was all Luhan seeped in around them, the ground ripped up around the fissures, drawing out the rest of the shadows. Then a sudden thrust of power pulled the shadows up into the waiting fire, destroying them and leaving a perfect opportunity to end the battle.

Kris demanded, “Tell D.O. to get those fissures closed up.”

The ground shook, taking a new shape and Kris thought seeing the shadows burn up was quite like fireworks during the summer.

When the red of the sky was gone completely, the fire dissipating with it, and the phoenix had molted into a pile of ashes, Kris breathed his first sigh of relief. With all his strength he pulled his dragon back down, feeling the rush of power as it sank into him.

It was still after that. Everything was still. 

Luhan’s hands fell slowly and he was breathing heavily, but he was still on his feet.

“Medic!” Xiumin shouted, turning frantically. “Someone go get Lay! The king is down!”

Kris protested, “I’m fine.”

Tao’s lips were cracked and pale as he asked, “What was that? Luhan I get. I’ve seen him in action before. But that fire? And the phoenix? I thought only Chanyeol had that kind of ability.”

“That’s what I call luck,” Kris said, exhaling as deeply as he could. It was about time they got some if it. 

Kris reached the encampment, supported by Tao and Xiumin uncomfortably, shortly after that. He found himself immediately fussed over by Lay, who concluded after only a second or two of skin to skin contact, “You’ve gone and broken some ribs. Hold still, please.”

“I thought I told you to come back safely,” Luhan stated, sitting on the edge of his cot, carefully out of Lay’s way.

“I told you not to get involved in the fight, so I think we’re square.”

Baekhyun announced, “From where I was standing, if Luhan hadn’t helped when he did, you’d all be dead.”

Slowly, one by one, and with Kris starting to feel the effects of Lay’s healing, the eleven guardians made their way into the tent. It was a tight fit, even with how spacious the tent was, but they all managed it.

“Can someone explain what happened out there?” D.O. asked, dirt creasing his face in several area.

Baekhyun said, “I know we didn’t think that anyone could use Chanyeol’s orb but himself, then I started thinking about that statement. The orbs are keyed to our respective powers, and there’s something you all don’t know. Well, D.O. knows, and it’s what let me use it. In a way, I tricked Chanyeol’s orb into working for me.” 

D.O. looked at Baekhyun almost reverently. “You’ve still got some of Chanyeol’s power in you, don’t you?”

Baekhyun gave a shaky nod. “I have a second ability. When I touch people I can harness their energy, or if they’re gifted, it means pulling at the power behind that gift. Chanyeol lent me a lot of his power just before he … before he died. I might be burnt out as far as my ability goes, but part of Chanyeol’s power is still in me somewhere. And his orb recognized that. It thought I was him, that’s why I was able to use it, even if I couldn’t control it. That’s what I needed Luhan for--the control.”

In Baekhyun’s hand were a few, red tinted shards of glass, the only remnants of what had been the orb. “I broke it. I smashed it down into the ground as hard as I could, hoping for the best. The most I can discern is that whatever power was locked up in that orb, waiting for Chanyeol, ended up exploding around us.”

“Simply put,” Luhan cut in, “we got very, very lucky.”

Kris had never believed something more.

The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of activity, stretching into the afternoon as Kris and Suho did their best to calm down the fractured forces they had left. His ribs still tinged with pain, but he could breathe easy, and he knew his presence helped calm the soldiers at least a little.

By the time the sun was dipping low on the horizon, and dinner was being served, Kris wearily made his way to his tent for the night. They’d lost over half of their combined forces in the attack, and the ones that were left were shell shocked to a degree. Another fight would wipe them out completely and neither he nor Suho could come up with any kind of plan that would win them the new war.

Luhan was seated at the small table in the tent when Kris pushed through the entrance. The older man seemed to be picking at his plate of food, rather than eating it, and scowling at something Kris couldn’t determine.

“Hey,” Kris offered a little tentatively, moving to sit across from him. “I just want to say thank you for today. I know I told you to stay back, by my own misguided overprotective urges, but you really saved us today. You and Baekhyun are the reason we won.”

“Won?” Luhan scoffed. “We didn’t win today, Kris. We will never win.”

Kris let his elbow rest on the table and leaned his chin on his palm. “I still believe. I still think we have a shot at it. As long as there’s someone left to fight, we have a chance.”

“I used to think that,” Luhan said honestly. “But now?”

Luhan looked so beaten down, like the fight that had burned so passionately before was completely gone now. It was disheartening. 

“Tomorrow is the alignment,” Kris said evenly. “Tomorrow, I think everything ends. One way or another.”

Luhan nodded silently.

Kris added, “So tonight, if you want to adopt a fatalist attitude, could be our last night.”

Blandly, Luhan asked, “You finally want that threesome with Tao?”

It took a second for the words to sink in, and along with the distasteful look on Luhan’s face, Kris burst out laughing. It felt great to laugh and laugh until his stomach hurt and his chest burned, laughing until Luhan was laughing too, his eyes crinkling happily. 

“No,” Kris managed, trying to take deep breaths. Because Luhan was a wonderful lover, considerate, patient and gentle, but the one and only time they’d slept together, to consummate their marriage, it had felt nothing like Kris had imagined sex was supposed be like. Sex with Luhan was methodical, almost clinical. Kris wanted sex to be more than that. “What I mean is, we deserve to spend the last bit of peace that we have with the people we are in love with. We deserve at least that much.”

His eyebrows drawn together, Luhan told him, “I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying you should spend tonight with Kai.”

“Kris.”

“I love you,” Kris said, “and you love me, but we’re better off as brothers. I want to spend tonight with the person I should have gotten to marry, and you should too. So give yourself tonight, and we’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.”

There was the oddest mixture of hesitation and desire on Luhan’s face for a significant period of time before his cousin said, “I promised you I would never be disloyal to you.”

“I’m asking you to.” Kris gave him a wry look. “And force once I want to be selfish, Luhan. If I’m going to die I want to die knowing what it’s like to have the one person I’m in love with. Don’t you feel that way?”

After that it wasn’t so hard to get Luhan to agree, and Kris ate dinner alone, never feeling more that he’d done the right thing.

Tao, however, seemed a little uncertain when he came to do his final rounds for the night and found Kris alone in the tent. He questioned, “Should I go find him? Camp should be safe, but this is Luhan we’re talking about. He naturally stumbles upon danger wherever he goes.”

“Luhan won’t be sleeping with me tonight,” Kris said simply. “I sent him to Kai. They should have tonight.”

“I understand,” Tao said slowly, dipping his head. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Kris got to his feet, already dressed in his night clothes. “I need you.” He paused, mouth dry. “I need you here and now, always with me. More than that, I want you. I want you so badly that I think I’ll go mad sometimes.”

Tao gave him a pointed stare. “I don’t think this is the kind of conversation we should be having.”

Kris shrugged. “We could die tomorrow. We probably will die tomorrow. So tonight all I want is you, the person that I love. I don’t care how cheesy that sounds, or if these are the kinds of words a girl would say. I only care that I love you, I am in love with you, and if you feel the same way, then you should stay with me tonight.”

“You know I love you,” Tao said quietly. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you,” Kris shot back, reaching a hand out to run along the front of Tao’s officer’s jacket. “I saw you standing in the courtyard, that stupid red sash of the junior uniform across your chest, and I knew you were going to be mine.”

Tao huffed out with a laugh, “You always were presumptuous.”

Without warning Kris darted forward, pressing his lips against Tao’s, holding him tightly.

“I want to have you,” Tao confessed, voice a whisper. “Just once before I die. I want to feel you and touch you and have you.”

“Come to bed then,” Kris said with a nod. “If we can’t have anything else, at least we can have each other tonight.”

Tao reached for the buckle on his belt, a blush across his cheeks. “Okay, Kris. Okay.”


	24. Luhan [1/2]

Definitively, but not without playfulness, Luhan turned his head, pressed his cheek to Kai’s bare, almost overhead chest, and declared, “The solution is simple. Haven’t you worked it out yet?”

“Hm?” Kai asked, a hand petting heavily through Luhan’s damp hair. “Tell me what it is.”

Luhan couldn’t help grinning, kissing the smooth skin underneath him, almost fully recovered from their latest round of lovemaking. He could hear the steady thumps of Kai’s heart, and feel the way his chest rose and fell evenly. It was reassuring that Kai was with him now, for whatever little time they had, and it was perfect. 

Luhan had never felt so alive before, which was why it was all the more ironic.

“We’d just have to get two,” Luhan said, nudging Kai’s chest with his chin. “Two homes would be perfect, if not preferred, and then we’d get to spend K’s too hot summers in M, and M’s too cold winters in K. The best of both.”

“Okay,” Kai agreed, his naked thigh sliding against Luhan’s, “Now that that’s decided, what would we do? I can’t honestly ever see myself doing anything but having a military career, I mean, it’s all I’ve ever known. And I give Commander Suho a lot of shit over my job, but I really kind of like it. What about you?”

It was probably a foolish game they were playing, pretending what their lives would be like if they weren’t in their current situation and free to love each other. But it was a momentary breath of sanity in a chaotic world and Luhan desperately just wanted to close his eyes and pretend, even if it was only for a second or two. 

“Well, I’ve been groomed since birth to be a political juggernaut, and I do excel at it.” Luhan felt his cheeks heat. “I like listening to the people, representing them, and making a difference in their lives. I find it fulfilling.”

Kai’s head cocked a bit. “But? I sense a but.”

Luhan pecked him on the lips and nodded indulgently. “I’m an avid Striker fan. I’ve always wanted to play, maybe even professionally, and if I were just Luhan, and you were just Kai, I’d be healthy enough to go for it. I don’t know about K, but in M, Striker season meant an unhealthy obsession for a lot of people. Kris and I used to sneak out to games when we were teenagers. It was the only time I ever really felt normal.”

“The war kind of destroyed most recreational things in K,” Kai reminded, “but all the kids knew how to play, and most people jacked broadcast games from M.” Kai cleared his throat, then continued their charade, “So you’d be a famous Striker player, and you’d play all the big arenas in M, do the whole circuit and sell them all out. And K would be so spurred on by your superstar image that they’d start building up their own teams and fields to play on, and there’d be some actual, real, inner league play between K and M.”

“You would come to my games wouldn’t you?” Luhan teased, pinching Kai gently. 

Kai scoffed. “Of course you know I would, Luhan. Because I’d have to let all of your fans know that you’d off the market, and those goals you’re scoring? They’re totally for me.”

“I don’t know,” Luhan eased out with a grin. “What if there were no goals scored? Would you still want to come to my games? What if I was the worst player on the team and they only kept me around for my dashing good looks?”

Kai gave a deep, solid laugh. “At least you’d make a sound marketing strategy for the league and its attendance. You are exceptionally attractive. But you can’t actually expect me to believe there’s something you can’t do if you put your mind to it.”

“I can’t cook,” Luhan said seriously. 

“You’ve never had to cook for yourself, so that doesn’t count. Do you even know where the kitchen is in the palace?”

Luhan propped himself up on the small but comfortable cot Kai was supposed to be sharing with D.O.. Before, in their initial frenzy, Luhan had let Kai push him down on it presumptuously, pulling at his clothes as they kissed. There was heavy padding on the cot, softening it as best as possible, and for Luhan who preferred a solid mattress, it felt more than satisfactory for what he planned to do with Kai. 

“The palace has several kitchens, Kai., to compensate for the large populace housed within its walls.” He stopped and frowned, remembering the last time he’d seen the palace. Half of it had been rubble and the other half on fire. Luhan had wanted to stop and not leave. He’d wanted to stay and help. There were still people who needed help, the people of M were looking to them for something--anything, and they were running away. It felt wrong and Xiumin had end up almost pulling him off his feet in the rush to get away. “It had, I guess.”

Kai cleared his throat, his hand sliding down from Luhan’s hair to tickle the back of his neck, and then rested ultimately at the dip of his back. Luhan couldn’t help shivering at the move, arousal shooting through him again. He felt sixteen all over again, with hormones raging out of control.

“Do you want to keep going?” Luhan asked hesitantly. 

After a moment of consideration, Kai said, “Let me get this right, okay? Two homes, because Exo’s seasons can be difficult at times, and because we don’t want to be away from our friends for too long. I’ll be a military man and you’ll be a brilliant Striker superstar. That takes care of some of the big stuff, but what about kids?”

Part of Luhan wanted to end the game right there. What business did they have talking about kids, even hypothetically, when they were about to die? It seemed an unnecessary cruelty. And why were they even torturing themselves in the first place? The kids Luhan would have been expected to have with Kris were nothing like the kind that he and Kai could imaging having. 

“Do you want them?” Kai asked once more. “Because I think you’d make a great dad. I know your parents died when you were a kid, and mine weren’t around much longer, but I think we’d be pretty good at the parenting thing.” 

“Kids” Luhan mused aloud. He’d always expected to be a father, married to Kris, needing to ensure the crown’s line. But given the opportunity to choose for himself, he found it took very little actual thought to decide that it was an idea he liked. “I do,” he told Kai, gazing up at him. “And I agree, we’d be amazing parents.”

“How many?” Kai pressed, leaning down for a kiss.

“Two?” Luhan guessed, trying to picture what their children could look like. “A boy and a girl.”

Kai wiggled his eyebrows, “Or two boys and two girls. Or three girls and three--”

“Kai,” Luhan shushed him with a look and a finger to his lips. “You’re crazy. We’d be lucky to raise one without permanently damaging it.”

Kai wrapped a strong arm around Luhan and maneuvered them down to their sides, responding, “You’re the crazy one now. We’d be a perfect team. I’d be the fun dad. I’d take our kids out to play all the time, and teach them all the cool things they need to know. And you’d make them wash for dinner and get their homework done and go to bed at a decent time. You’d be the firm one. We’d work out great together as parents.”

“Why do I have to be the disciplinarian?” Luhan demanded.

Kai leaned in close, his lips brushing against Luhan’s cheek as he whispered, “You’d love them so much, too. You’d sing them to sleep and bandage their scrapped knees. You’d never forget to tell them how much you love them, teach them important values, make them strong, keep them grounded and bring them joy. What more could I ever dare to wish for?”

It was a terribly beautiful thought, thinking of a perfect little house in the country for when they were in K, with children running out in the fields around them, Luhan desperately trying to teach himself to cook while Kai teased him endlessly about it. They’d have picnics together, be a strong family and love each other more than anyone else on the whole planet.

And then when it was warmer and they needed to cool down, they’d go to M, navigate the metropolitan scene and see everything. There’d be visits to the zoo, museums, and theme parks. Luhan would take the kids to see Striker games and Kai would buy them crazy fan hats to wear while they cheered him on.

Now all Luhan could see in his mind were beautiful, brown eyed children.

“Luhan?” Kai asked, voice startled. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” It wasn’t until Kai’s fingers pressed under his eyes that he realized how his vision were was blurring, eyes filling quickly with unshed tears.

“I’m okay, Kai. I’m just fine.”

He just wanted that perfect future with Kai so badly.

Kai sighed and tipped his head back. His fingers stroked absently at Luhan’s smooth skin. “Can I ask you something serious?”

“Of course.” Luhan could scarcely believe that he was here with Kai at the moment, laying together without much of a care, simply enjoying each other. It was a lifted burden from Luhan’s heart that they could have the moment, and he was eternally grateful to Kris for it. “What kind of question? You want to name our children?”

“No, not that.” Kai’s hand stilled and dread clenched in Luhan’s chest. 

“You can ask me anything. I won’t lie to you.”

Luhan held his breath until he heard Kai say, “I want to know what’s going to happen during the solar alignment. For real. And I don’t mean battle strategies. I want to know what you do, and what’s made you look so dead in the eyes lately. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Mama told you something, right?”

Luhan swallowed down the budding fear in his throat that threatened to choke him and replied as evenly as he could, “You know my connection with Mama is severed. The last time I spoke to her was when I traveled to the Forbidden City. She’s gone now, along with the life tree, which was her only real connection to us and this planet. You’re asking a complicated question with an even more complicated answer.”

Kai leaned down to kiss the crown of his head. “Lately I’ve been looking at you and I think I know. I think I can guess. It’s on your face when you think no one is looking. So let me tell you this, Luahn, if I’m going to … if I’m going to die tomorrow, I want to know. I want you to say the words to me and for us to be perfectly clear with each other.”

The tent was hot, the temperature a reflection of their recent activates. So when Luahn sat up, blankets falling to his bare stomach, he felt a distinct lack of chill. He still felt something of a tremor, though, racing through his body, scaring him and breaking the fragile peace he and Kai had managed. 

It was clear that the illusion was over. There’d be no more talk of imaginary careers and children.

“Kai …”

“What did Mama tell you the last time you spoke to her? What were her final words? I know your conversations are supposed to be private for the most part, but you weren’t the same after this last one. Something changed. Something in you broke. We’re all going to die, aren’t we? There’s no winning this.”

Luhan found himself gasping out, “Kai, don’t ask me things like this.” He wanted to plead and beg for any other topic. He’d agree to anything if only Kai would drop it and never come back to what he already knew.

“For sure?” Kai asked, holding Luhan even closer. “There’s no saving any of us? No even someone like Sehun who’s still so young, with so much of his life ahead of him? Can’t most of us sacrifice for at least a few?”

The tears were leaking out just after that, making Luhan’s cheeks splotchy, stuffing up his nose and making him want to crawl into Kai’s embrace and never come out.

For all his questions, Kai was eternally patient. He held Luhan while he cried as silently as possible, shoulders hitching every few seconds. 

The last conversation he’d had with Mama was so clear in Luhan’s head it was as if it had just happened. Most of his interactions with Mama faded a little or a lot over time, but this was different. He had a feeling that the words had been seared into his memory for a reason. He could recall each syllable with startling clarity and still remembered the exact moment he’d fallen to his knees with a desperate sob ripping its way out of his throat.

The words he had thought, even until the last possible moment, would never come. The hope he’d held out.

“Mama said,” Luhan could finally say, tears eventually going dry, “that there’s no saving the planet. It’s lost. The shadows rotted through to the core and it isn’t salvageable. The guardians weren’t ready in time. They couldn’t fight soon enough. We were too busy fighting each other to unite for the bigger cause. This is on us. And no, we can’t win.”

“Then the shadows are going to win,” Kai said, not like a question, but with heavy acceptance. 

“It’s because we allowed ourselves to lose our history, and forget the things that should never have been forgotten.” Luhan brought himself up further on the bed so he could lay nose to nose with Kai and simply breathe in his unique scent. “The Forbidden City, Kai. That whole continent. We were always taught they dropped bombs on each other because they couldn’t sort out their differences. That’s not the truth.”

“Then what is?”

Slowly, trying to catch his breath, Luhan told Kai, “Their guardians, their generation’s, almost waited too long. They cut it so close, and by the time they realized what we’ve only just begun to, their shadows were already manifesting on land. They dropped the bombs to kill the shadows, and that, alongside their guardian’s combined efforts, won them their war. It just came at a price to us.” She’d given him hints and parts of the story from the very beginning, threading the pieces through his visions and dreams, building a story that Luhan hadn’t been able to grasp until history had already begun to repeat itself.

Kai wondered, “How did they end up hurting us?”

“That’s when Mama’s influence changed?” Luhan felt himself go boneless. “The people who survived thought they could burry the shadows for good if they buried every bit of their existence. That meant dismantling Mama’s religion, destroying books, and slowly letting the people forget. The orbs and the book we found were hidden away by a precious few who understood the shadows would be back, but for the most part, everyone forgot. And they became complacent. And so when the first signs started appearing to us, we had no clue how to recognize them, and we waited too long.”

Kai rubbed a hand over his forehead. “How long have the guardians and Mama been playing a cat and mouse game with these shadows?”

“They always existed simultaneously,” Luhan said, his fingers settling over the pulse point on Kai’s neck. “The shadows, I mean, because the universe is about balance, Kai, and you can’t have a great good without a great evil. Evil has always been rooted deep in the planet’s core, fighting against Mama’s soul and her guardians, generation after generation. They’ve just been sleeping longer than before this time, since the bombs dropped and decimated most of their forces. They slept until we forgot about them, and we made ourselves too vulnerable in the end. All they had to do was wait us out, Kai. All they had to do was be patient until we started fighting amongst ourselves and forgot not only how to defeat them, but that they were even there in the first place.”

Plainly, Kai asked, “What are you saying?”

Luhan said somberly, “We don’t stand a chance. We can’t fight them and win, Kai, because M and K split Exo down the middle. Because we divided a front that was meant to stand as one, and that opened the flood gates for the shadows to sneak right through. All this time I thought Mama was trying to warn us in time to stop this outcome, but I was wrong. She wasn’t trying to do that at all. She was trying to prepare us for what comes after.”

“But why do we have to die?” Kai demanded roughly, his hand firm on Luhan’s hip. “I understand that we were stupid and we weakened ourselves, but we’re together now. We’re strong now. We’re like the guardians that came before us.”

“No,” Luhan said, shaking his head. “The other guardians, they had time to prepare. They knew their history. They understood their enemy. They were aware of how to fight and win. We’re lost and blind, and we’re down not only a guardian, but several of the power sources that our predecessors left for us. We weren’t there to protect Mama and now she’s gone because of it. Only Mama can create new guardians, so we’re the last of them.”

Luhan felt the anger Kai gave off and didn’t blame him for it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kai asked. “Why didn’t you tell us right away that we were going to fight against an enemy who’d already won simply by outsmarting our memories? We lost before we even started, Luhan! Why didn’t you say something?”

Because, Luhan wanted to tell him, it was shameful they were directly responsible for the destruction of their planet, and the death of Mama. The shadows has weakened her in previous generations, and then M and K had been too concerned with their own conflicts to take into account her struggles. They fought each other when they could have been fighting the initial stages of the shadows, before they had completely rotted through the planet and life tree.

“Kai,” Luhan said quietly, “we are going to die. That’s what you wanted to know, and now you do. But death … it’s not really the end. I promise you, this is also what Mama told me. She said death is not the end, because she loves us, we’re her children, and she will always protect us--even when we’re supposed to be the ones protecting her.”

“What?” Kai huffed out.

“Plans have been in motion for a very long time,” Luhan revealed vaguely. “Mama and I have been working on a … I guess you could call it a contingency plan. I just didn’t know what it was until now.”

Kai could only gave him a less than patient look. “What kind of plan?”

“Sehun saved a seed from the life tree,” Luhan reminded. He tapped his chest and gave a firm nod. “I have it here. Safely in me.”

Hesitantly, Kai asked, “The seed?”

“The seed’s power,” Luhan corrected. “I slept for so long because I was accepting that power.”

Kai frowned. “What power is that?”

It was their hope, if nothing else. “It’s the power of rebirth, Kai.” After so long of being in the dark, Luhan finally had all his answers to all the questions. Accepting the life seed’s power had only been the beginning of their fight, and likewise enough, it would be the beginning of everything that came after. He couldn’t begin to explain to Kai what having that power inside him meant, but soon enough everyone would understand. He hadn’t simply been protecting the seed for posterity’s sake.

“I don’t follow,” Kai said honestly. 

“But I do,” Luhan told him. “I finally understand all the different futures I kept seeing. I understand what they mean, and how they fracture away from each other. I can see them all, Kai, like beautiful spider webs, linked and branching out. It all makes perfect sense now. I know how to get to each one, and how they all feed back to one precise moment.”

Kai’s tanned hand cupped the side of his face tenderly. “You’re practically speaking nonsense to me, baby.”

Luhan probably could have explained everything to Kai if they had a million years, or if it was Kai who had the life seed’s power within him. If Kai could see what he saw now, and know what he knew, it could be so easily explained. 

“I only need you to trust me that death is not the end, but more than that I need a promise from you,” Luhan said suddenly, terrified that he and Kai would be separated and wouldn’t be able to find their way back to each other. “I need you to swear something to me on your soul, and not break it no matter what happens.

“Luhan,” Kai said, confused. “Of course. What kind of promise?”

“I want you to promise me,” Luhan articulated slowly, “or make a vow to me, really, that if the worst should happen after this battle, and the guardians are scattered, that you will become the leader that you were always meant to be. You’ll remember--everything, and you’ll bring everyone back together.”

Kai jostled Luhan he moved so fast, righting himself, kicking away the last of their blankets. “You need to tell me a little more clearly what you’re talking about, because you’re really starting to scare me. And I’m no leader.”

Luhan insisted, “You are a natural born leader, Kai. You were born to lead. Kris, he was born to be a king, and Suho, he was born to be a peacemaker, but you, Kai, you were born to be a leader. You have greatness in you, and the truth is you’ve always been poised to lead us guardians. Mama told me that before she even told me who you were or why I had your face in my mind. So if the worst happens, if it’s something terrible, you have to swear to me that you’ll remember us. We may not be able to remember ourselves.”

“I could never forget you,” Kai said harshly, brows drawing together. 

Luhan brushed his fingers across Kai’s forehead, along the faint lines of worry that had begun to crease, down his smooth cheekbones, and to his impossibly soft lips. He asked, “Will you promise me? Swear to me? If the guardians are ever separated, and forget themselves, you’ll be there to bring us back together?”

“I swear,” Kai said slowly, such unease on his face, making guilt coil in Luhan’s stomach. “But you’re crazy if you think I wouldn’t, should something like that happen, come looking for you right away.”

Luhan thought Kai was utterly breathtaking in his determination. He’d always been beautiful to Luhan, his heart more than anything else, but now he was utterly magnificent. He had no clue, not really, what Luhan was asking of him, but he was vowing it anyway, with such love and trust.

“Not me,” Luhan corrected. “The guardians. You have to prioritize the guardians. Not just me. You have to swear also that you won’t go out of your way to find me, not when the others are closer. If we’re separated, trust that I won’t need you as much as they will.”

Ashen, Kai said, “You’re beyond scaring me now.”

Luhan sighed and collapsed fully against Kai. He closed his eyes and just breathed. In a matter of hours Kai would be dead. Kris would be dead. Everyone would be dead and the planet would be gone. But, if everything worked out like Luhan desperately hoped it would, Mama’s last sacrifice for them, unfathomable in its scale, and the life seed, would protect them. Luhan felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders with his precious burden. He so desperately wanted to tell Kai, but he didn’t want to risk the perfect future he’d seen for them--the one that they could be together in.

“Luhan?”

“You will be okay. I swear that to you.”

“I’m more worried about you,” Kai mumbled, leaning over him. 

Luhan caught Kai’s fingers and slotted his own against them, holding their connection up to the light. There was beauty in the simplicity of what he saw, and the warmth of Kai’s skin against his own.

He found his voice once more, and turned to Kai to ask him, “Will you break the rules for me?”

“What rules?”

“Kris’ rules,” Luhan said, “or Commander Suho’s. The encampment’s rules, I suppose. Kai, I want to go to our spot. I know it’s forbidden for us to leave the camp, and it wouldn’t be safe for us to go anywhere without an escort, plus, having Mama’s life seed in me probably paints a target on my back just like Baekhyun had, but I want to go to our spot. I’m never going to see it again.”

“Luhan,” Kai said gently. “I know you want to see the flowers. Our moons are almost full and the flowers need their combined light to glow, but it’s late in the year. When I went to get some for you, there were barely any left. It’ll be nine or ten months again before our place looks like it did the first time we went there.”

Luhan protested, “I don’t care. It’s our spot and I want to go.” Earth didn’t have flowers that glowed in the dark. At last none that Luhan had ever seen, and if he and Kai found themselves together on Earth, if they were lucky enough and the possible future Luhan was reaching for worked out, they would never be able to share their flowers again.

“Your king already doesn’t like me enough as it is,” Kai reminded. 

Honestly, Luhan expected to have to fight with Kai a bit more on the subject. But without a word Kai was rolling from the bed, unabashed by his nakedness to reach for his nearby pants. 

“We’re going?” Luhan dared to ask.

Kai reached a had out for him. “Only if you get up and get dressed. Or I suppose we could go naked. That’d make things interesting if we’re caught.”

Luhan laughed, putting his hand into Kai’s. “I’d love to try and explain that to my cousin.”

“Yes, I’m sure your husband would appreciate that.” Kai hugged him tightly, his arms around Luhan’s shoulders, holding on as if for dear life. “Though letting us be together tonight is something I never saw coming, so he might be making progress.”

Once in a while, when he let his thoughts wonder, it was a real mystery to Luhan why Kai loved him. The reverse, Luhan loving Kai, was as simple as breathing. Luhan had had years to fall in love with Kai, catching glimpses of him in his dreams as Kai went about his day to day business, hung out with friends, worked, ate, cried, laughed, and everything else. Luhan had been privy to Kai’s most selfless moments and witnessed first hand the capacity of his heart. Not falling in love Kai had never been an option, regardless of where Kai came from and which side he belonged to.

But Kai loving him? That was a mystery in Luhan’s book. Still, he was curious.

“Kai?” Luhan asked, pulling his shirt over his head, appreciating the way that Kai’s defined, toned body twisted during dressing.

“Yes?”

Quickly Luhan shook his head. How stupid would it have been to ask why Kai loved him? It seemed more prudent just to accept that love and appreciate it. “Never mind, sorry.”

“So, the field,” Kai said, slipping on shoes and looking ready to go. “Our place.”

Once they were holding onto each other, Luhan felt the familiar pull in his stomach, then they were popping into existence out the middle of nowhere.

The cities and more populated areas of K and M were completely destroyed, ravished by war and fire. But here out in the country, where Luhan would have wanted to build a house, everything was still serene and still. Untouched. The land was pristine and unmarked by the shadows, and for a half second, a precious amount of time to Luhan who knew what was drawing ever closer, it was just enough time to escape from everything.

The coming colder months had all but wiped out the fickle, fragile flowers that bloomed for only a short amount of time, but as Luhan found his feet under him, leaning away from Kai to look, he could see bunches of purples and blues, already florescent in the moonlight. There were a still a few, stubborn flowers left, fighting back the chill, persevering in to the cold months.

“Come with me,” Luhan said, dragging Kai up to a high hill. It was some effort to climb it, even with their shoes, but they managed. “I want to show you something.”

As they puffed, climbing the rest of the way, Kai recalled fondly, “We found this place on accident, remember? Got turned around and we didn’t want to go back just yet. Everything was in full bloom and I started sneezing right away. It’s less romantic now that I think about it.”

“It was perfect,” Luhan insisted, also remembering the night. The grass had been slick and wet with dew under their bare feet and Luhan had lost his footing. It was clear in his mind the way Kai had caught him, like a horribly clichéd, but amazingly romantic scene in the movies Xiumin pretended not to like but had a whole stack of at the back of his closet.

Luhan had wanted to confess his love on the spot, his heart thundering in his chest as Kai asked him if he was hurt, then bent to kiss him when he wasn’t.

Kai had mumbled endearments to him through their kisses, about his devotion to Luhan, his love, and the kind of promises that were made only with utmost sincerity. Kai had promised him the world in that moment.

He’d meant it, too.

“What do you want to show me?” Kai asked, craning his head around.

They laid on their backs, looking up at the perfect, cloudless night sky, the stars shining bright around their planet’s twin moons. In fact the moons were so bright and so full that Luhan could make out all of Kai’s smooth, handsome features.

“Look up,” Luhan commanded, his finger pointing up and to the right. “See that collections of stars in the distance? The one on the far right. Can you see it?”

Kai squinted, then gave a nod. “With the dip in the formation?”

Warmth settled in Luhan’s belly as he pressed himself against Kai. “That’s where Earth is. It’s very, very far away, but in that general direction.”

“What’s Earth?”

Earth was … “It’s a perfect place,” Luhan said. “Well, the planet itself isn’t perfect, and the people aren’t either, but what I mean is that it’s a perfect place for us. They’ve got blue skies just the same as us, and breathtakingly beautiful sunrises and sunsets. There are dangers there, but not like here. There are no shadows there.”

Kai questioned, “Is this one of those planets our astronomers were investigating? They’ve been finding a lot of them lately, but I didn’t think our telescopes were advanced enough to be able to determine those sorts of things.”

“They’re more technologically advanced than us, too,” Luhan continued. “And from what I know, they have brilliant scholars, artists, novelists, scientist and millions of people with all the potential in the world. We could also be normal there. We could have normal lives. We could go to school, have families, and be whoever we want to be. Earth is safe, Kai, Mama told me. It’s safe for us, and that’s all she’s ever wanted.”

Kai leveled himself up on his elbow. “So Mama told you about this place called Earth?”

Luhan folded his hands over his stomach and trained his eyes on the stars. “She was showing Chanyeol Earth ages before she was showing me. He just didn’t know it was Earth.”

Kai was quiet for a beat, then asked, “If we were on Earth, you’re saying we’d have the life we want? The one we talked about having?”

“I think so,” Luhan said honestly. “We’d still have to work for it, but it would be possible. You know, on Earth, what we call the Striker league, they call soccer. Or football. Actually, it depends on what part of Earth you’re on. It’s a little complicated.” 

“This Earth seems like a great place, then. We should go there.”

“Just …” Luhan felt his words cut out, like they’d been stolen from him. His eyes and nose were burning like he wanted to cry again, and he tried to hold himself together. He was so tired of crying. “Just remember what you promised me. If the guardians end up separated for whatever reason, and can’t find themselves, you have to be the one to step in and unite us all again. You have to be our leader.”

“How could we be separated if we’re supposed to die?” Kai questioned.

Quietly, Luhan replied, “Because death is not the end.”

Luhan’s line of vision to the stars was blocked and Kai smiled warmly down at him, moving to brace himself over Luhan’s slighter body. “I am madly, desperately and ridiculously in love with you. Do you believe me when I say that?”

Luhan gave a muted nod.

Kai bent and kissed him softly. “Then believe that I will never break my word to you. If we’re separated, I will always find you, and the others too, but I’m not planning on letting us be separated. Got that?”

Luhan pulled him down for a fuller, deeper kiss. He believed Kai. Or he believed Kai would try. But there were too many unknown variables, and not enough constants. There was no way to tell anything for sure. And the truth remained, the end was coming, and the after had the potential to be even worse.

“I’ve got it.”

They fell asleep that night on the hill, surrounded by glowing flowers, able to block out the world for just a little bit more. It was, at least for Luhan, the perfect way to spend their last night alive.


	25. Luhan [2/2]

Kai brought them back to his tent just as the sun was breaking, the smile already fading from his face, almost as if it had never been there to begin with. Luhan supposed the time for smiles had long since passed. And it would be a long time before it came again.

“I have to go,” Luhan said, lingering a bit, not at all wanting to go. “We’re having a meeting, just us guardians, a little later. But I need to spend sometime with my cousin, and Xiumin and all my best friends. I might not see them for a very long time. I also have some business that needs to be taken care of sooner, rather than later.”

Kai frowned. “If we’re about to die, you won’t ever see them again.” He winced and apologized.

Luhan said, “Maybe,” and leaned in for a final kiss. Then he added, “Please don’t say anything to the others about what I told you. Kris thinks, or maybe he’s just pretending to think, that we can fight and win. Everyone will fight harder and with more heart if they think we have a chance, even if it’s a slim one. That’s something they have to do, Kai. They have to fight as if they might win.”

“Why would it matter how hard we fight if we’re going to die?” Kai’s shoulders slumped. “I won’t say anything to anyone, but I have to admit, I’m having a very hard time digesting that you still want me to go out there, and pretend like everything is okay, and essentially march to my death. Why should I … why should I even go? Why can’t I be a coward and just run away? Why can’t I take you and go?”

Luhan shook his head. “Because that’s not who you are, Kai. That’s not the man you are. You aren’t a coward, no matter how badly you might want to be right now. And having courage right now, fortitude and strength enough to give your life for the protection of others, will mean everything in the after.” How could he explain it? How could he say it? How much could he say?

“The after,” Kai said gruffly. “Where you think we’re going to end up separated and forget each other, and that’s all after we’re apparently dead and gone, which is crazy and makes no sense. I’ve always found your riddles bearable, Luhan. They’re a part of you. But I’m tired of the guessing now. I’m tired to your lack of bluntness.”

“Kai,” Luhan said, “We have to prove ourselves as guardians. We have to prove ourselves worthy of the title. Chanyeol died protecting one of our own. He proved himself. His soul is clean. Mama promised me. He’s the phoenix. He is rebirth. He had to die first, Kai, he always had to die first, so that the rest of us could come after.”

“Wait. What?” Kai reeled back, his voice carrying far too loud for Luhan’s comfort. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Had to die?”

Luhan pressed forward, his hands coming up to cover Kai’s mouth. They were hidden in the protection of Kai’s tent, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be overheard. “Lower your voice, please. No one else is meant to hear what I’m telling you. Maybe you’re not even meant to hear it.”

He took his hands away slowly, and it was an eternity more before Kai said, “That is bullshit, Luhan. Chanyeol did not have to die.”

No, Luhan supposed not. He told Kai, “You’re right. It was his choice. He chose to protect the person he loved. He chose to protect Baekhyun at the cost of his own life, and because of his sacrifice, the phoenix will rise again, making way for the rest of us. Mama has promised me this.”

“Luhan,” Kai breathed out, sounding utterly spent. “Chanyeol died after the last time you spoke with Mama. You spoke with her in the Forbidden City, and then Chanyeol died hours afterwards. Your connection broke before he died, didn’t it? How could you still be in communication? How could she have promised you anything after either of them died?”

Luhan cracked a smile. “I have Mama’s life seed in me, Kai. Mama and her life tree might be gone, but her soul isn’t. Mama will never fully be gone until all of us are. She doesn’t intend to ever let that happen. Now please, keep my secret, and please, uphold your promise to me. Everything depends on that promise.” Before he could say more, or reveal too much, Luhan ducked through the opening of the tent and headed back to where his husband had slept. 

There was a beat of awkwardness the second Luhan was in front of Kris. Tao was already gone, and Luhan hadn’t expected him to stick around long enough to create an even more uncomfortable situation. Kris was having a merger breakfast, picking at it more accurately, making Luhan question how many meals he’d done the same at. He was looking thinner than usual.

“How was … ah …” Kris tried, almost adorably so.

“I love you,” Luhan told him, moving to sit in the adjacent chair. “You are amazingly selfless, cousin. But with all due respect, we should probably not talk about this. At least not so early in the morning.”

Kris took a drink of water from a clear glass and saluted him. “Fair enough, husband. But you should be well aware by now that I’m not nearly as selfless as you claim me to be. In fact I’m probably the opposite.”

“You’re a better man than you let people think you are,” Luhan determined. “And that’s a real shame.” Luhan reached for the small bowl of fruit left untouched by Kris and settled in for the last time.

Over the course of their meal Luhan made it a point to keep the conversation away from anything decidedly depressing, and steered it clear every time it threatened to go there. The end result was a good meal, probably the best they’d had together in ages, and faces that hurt from smiling too much at fond childhood memories.

“I’ve got to go talk to a couple of people,” Luhan said when they were done. “But I’ll be back before the lunch hour. I want to be present for the final meeting for both the guardians and the remainder of our forces. Kris, you know I’m going to fight whenever the next attack comes, right? It will be our last stand.”

His cousin’s face was tight lipped and unhappy, but he said, “I know you are. I don’t like it, but I accept it. And I won’t deny that you saved our asses yesterday.”

“Good,” Luhan said, and desperately hoped the next time he woke up, he remembered his cousin. “Now, do you know where Sehun’s tent is? I need to speak with him.”

When M had been lost, and Luhan had been forced to flee with Kris and their closest allies, he’d still been reeling in the shock of losing Mama. The wound had been fresh in his mind and heart, and though he had barely been able to recognize Sehun’s presence as anything but a nuisance, he did recall the endless ways Sehun had attempted to help him. Sehun had been at his side for days, caring for him, talking to him, and urging him not to give up … maybe on himself. Xiumin had eventually run him off, but Luhan was now forever thankful that Sehun had been there. Sehun had proven himself.

“Luhan,” Sehun called out the moment he was ducking into the small tent, announcing himself clearly. “I … didn’t think I’d see you anytime soon.”

“No?” Luhan frowned. “Why not?”

Sehun was perched on the edge of his sleeping cot, elbows on his knees. “Because Xiumin let me know that I was crowding you, and once you were able to function a little more, all that mattered to you was Kai.” Sehun frowned a little. “I’m not saying I don’t understand why Xiumin and Kai are more important to you. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“And you think you’re not important to me?” Luhan questioned. He crossed the distance to Sehun and sat next to him gingerly. “Maybe you’ve forgotten that Mama was sending me dreams about you long before we met. I may be in love with Kai, but you’re in my heart as well, and you are more important than you think you are.”

Sehun, who was so young, but so pure hearted, was someone Luhan was determined to protect. The others he could entrust to Kai, but Sehun was different. Luhan was determined to care for Sehun himself.

“You never told me what the dreams were about,” Sehun said, catching Luhan off guard.

“I didn’t?” Luhan inquired. “I thought I did.”

“I never asked. It never felt right.”

And now it didn’t matter.

“Well,” Luhan said, “I never dreamed about your childhood. Not like Kai’s. I got to watch him grow up. I know more about him than he knows about himself, which is a little odd even in my book. But with you, all I ever saw was one of the most precious friendships I was ever going to have. I saw us, Sehun, having meals together, confiding in each other, and embracing each other as brothers. I saw things that have already happened, things that will never happen, and all the proof I could eve need to determine that you are the one and only choice I could ever make to ask the favor of you that I have to.”

Toeing his shoes off, Sehun folded his long legs up on the cot, and asked Luhan earnestly, “What kind of favor?”

Luhan huffed out, “I feel like all I’m doing is asking things of people lately, but this is important.”

Sehun gave a firm nod. “No matter what it is, you can ask it.”

But could he? And essentially steal yet another life from Sehun?

“Luhan?”

Fingers curling up into the material of his pants, Luhan admitted, “Something very bad is going to happen soon. Something that changes everything. We’re going to be lost, Sehun. Scattered. We’re going to be in pieces and most of us won’t know how to put ourselves together. And no matter how baldy I want to protect the other guardians, that’s not my responsibility. Protecting the guardians until they can protect themselves falls to Kai. For me, and maybe for you, responsibility falls to protecting what I have in here.” He touched a finger to his chest and met Sehun’s eyes. “Do you understand?”

Slowly, Sehun’s own finger rose to tap alongside Luhan’s. “The seed?”

“The seed,” Luhan confirmed. “This is the last bit left of Mama. It’s her legacy. And I have to protect it so Mama has a future.”

“Then what’s your favor?” Sehun asked, eyebrows pulling together. “That I protect the seed with you? That’s not the kind of favor you have to ask, Luhan. Don’t forget, I felt the push from Mama to save it. I climbed the life tree. I felt its power in my hands before I gave it to you. I’ll protect Mama with my dying breath.”

Luhan reached for Sehun’s nearby hand, holding it tightly. “When I first met you, or rather, when you first met me, you were having such trouble controlling your gift. It was in control of you sometimes, and not the other way around. But I have always known that you were meant to be one of the most powerful guardians to ever exist. Mama used to whisper to me that you were exceptional, and one day you’d mature and be ready, and I think this is that time.”

Sehun squeezed Luhan’s fingers back “I’m going to fight with everything I have when the time comes. I’ll give everything.”

“I believe you.” Luhan nodded.

“But you still haven’t asked your favor,” Sehun inferred. “Why not? Is it that big?”

“It is,” Luhan revealed. “But I guess this is the time.”

Most of the time, Luhan let himself forget the feelings Sehun had for him. The kinds of feelings he could never return. And while he had no doubt that they were feelings that would fade over time, as Sehun grew older, at the moment, it would have been all too easy to manipulate them. There was nothing Luhan knew Sehun wouldn’t do for him, and the task at hand clearly was to ask a favor for utmost important without letting those feelings sway Sehun’s answer in any way. Luhan couldn’t let that happen.

“My job in the after,” Luhan started, “will be to protect the seed and the power within it. To cultivate and nourish what it truly is, and to keep it safely hidden. That will take everything in me to accomplish, Sehun. I don’t expect to have an unwelcome company while this happens, but just in case, I need someone to protect me, while I protect the seed.”

“And you want that to be me?” Sehun eased out slowly.

“I do,” Luhan agreed. “You’re a powerhouse, Sehun. You are strong and capable, but more than that, your heart and intentions are pure. I need you and Mama needs you, and this is asking more than you comprehend at the moment, but if you agree, it’ll be more than just guard duty. It’ll be secluding yourself away from others and waiting, and hoping, and it will be a long time of this.”

Years, Luhan tried to impart on him. It would be years before they could come out of hiding, until everything had stabilized enough to risk having normal, free lives.

“Away from everyone else?” Sehun asked.

Luhan replied, “For a while. In the after, I won’t know who to trust, so I won’t know who to expose the seed to. It’ll just be me and you, and it might get lonely. It probably will.”

Sehun’s hand wrung free from Luhan’s and he stood, hands on his hips as he clearly thought the matter over.

“I know it isn’t fair to ask you this--”

Sehun turned sharply to him and asked, “You do realize I’m in love with you? I mean, I get that you won’t return those feelings, but you’re telling me that I’ll get to be alone with the person I love, and protect them, and you think this isn’t something I’d want to do?”

Luhan stood himself. “I think you should take into account that even if we spent a hundred years together, we’d never be anything more than friends.”

“You’re my best friend,” Sehun said, shrugging a little. “You’re the person I trust more than anyone else, and the only person who took me exactly as I was, never judged me, always tried to help me, was patient with me, showed me care, and is more than worthy of being protected while he does the most important thing of his life.”

“You won’t be able to see your family,” Luhan offered.

“I don’t have any family, remember? Orphan.”

Luhan gave him a pointed stare. “You might not have any family here, but you likely will where we’re going.”

Confused, Sehun asked, “Where we’re going? We’re going somewhere?”

Instead of answering Sehun’s question, a question that Luhan wasn’t prepared to share the answer with, he posed, “Will you accept me asking this favor of you? Will you sacrifice years of your life and the freedom to do what you want, in order to help me? Please, don’t accept if you don’t completely understand what I’m asking.”

Sehun gave a pause then chuckled. “Luhan, no one really understands you.”

“Sehun.”

Luhan felt air wheeze from him as he was grabbed suddenly, but not harshly, and hugged tightly to Sehun’s chest. The taller boy wrapped heavy arms around him and said, “I’d willingly and gladly follow you to the end of the world, Luhan. And if that’s what this is, then it’s a favor you don’t even need to ask. I’ll be there for you, no questions asked, because that’s what we are to each other. Understand?”

Luhan hugged him back tightly. “Thank you.”

He left Sehun’s tent with his heart feeling a little less heavy, and enough stamina to make it through the last portion of the morning, and well into the afternoon. But by the time the sun was high in the sky, tension was starting to bleed through Luhan’s body, and he could sense how near the end was.

There seemed just enough time for one last moment between Luhan and Baekhyun, who was more like his brother now than anything else.

“Baekhyun,” Luhan called out, hurrying to his side as he caught the man existing the large tent they’d set up as a makeshift armory. 

“Luhan,” Baekhyun returned. “Coming to pick up some equipment?”

Luhan shook his head. “Actually, I was looking for you. Chen said he spotted you in this direction. I wanted a word with you, just for a second.”

“Okay. About what?”

Luhan gnawed his bottom lip for a second, then asked, “You’re planning to fight, right? You’re going to stand with the guardians?”

“I am,” Baekhyun confirmed. “I might not have the kind of power that would benefit us, but I can fight in other ways, and I’ll fight until my last breath. I’m going to avenge Chanyeol and get justice for him, even if the impact I make is small.”

“About that,” Luhan said, hand waving a bit frantically. “I just wanted to tell you, I know you think your power is gone. You think you wasted it all, blew it out in one big explosion and you think you’re normal now. But our gifts don’t work that way. You may have burnt yourself out, but you just need time. You’ve been recovering. Your gift has been hibernating, in a word. It isn’t gone permanently.”

Baekhyun gave him a look of disbelief. “I appreciate you trying to lift my spirits or make me feel better, but you don’t have to. I’ve had some time now to get used to my sudden lack of abilities. I’m at peace with it.”

“It’s still in you,” Luhan argued. “And if you call for your gift in battle, it will come to you. I promise you, Baekhyun. I swear it to you.”

Suspiciously, Baekhyun asked, “What brought this on?”

“Just … trust me, okay?”

“I can’t feel my ability,” Baekhyun said simply. “Even when I wasn’t using it all those years, I could always feel it. That’s not the case now.”

Luhan started, “Baekhyun, there are times when--” but he was abruptly cut off by Tao dashing by, calling out a warning as he veered past them, hollering about movement to the west of their camp.

“You want to?” Luhan asked Baekhyun after Tao was gone, nodding after the younger man.

Baekhyun shrugged. “Might as well.” They took off after Tao together.

Tao, Chen, Kris and Commander Suho were grouped together near the far west barricade by the time Luhan and Baekhyun reached them.

Winded, Luhan asked, “What’s going on?”

“False alarm,” Kris assured him, trying to look at ease. “We thought it was enemy movement initially.”

“What was it instead?” Baekhyun asked.

“Civilians,” Suho said sourly. “They managed to pick up our trail and find the base. They’re asking to be admitted for protection.”

“And we’re having a disagreement about it,” Chen added quickly. “We should let them in. They’ve got someone with an ability. He said he’ll fight with us if we let him and the others in. We need to consider that some of them will fight, too.”

“This is a war camp,” Suho returned, voice like steel. “This is not a location for survivors to find asylum. It isn’t safe here. Every person at this camp at the moment is preparing for a last fight in which we expect to sacrifice everything to win. Everyone here accepts they may die at any time. We can’t afford to take on anyone that isn’t going to make that same sacrifice.”

“They have kids with them,” Chen shot back.

“Kris?” Luhan turned to him. “How many are there?”

“Too many,” Kris said with a sigh. “Around seventy of them. And the person they have with them, the one with a gift, it’s barely something we could use in a offensive manner.”

“He can go invisible,” Tao told Luhan.

Without so much as an inch of room for debate, Suho said, “Kris and I are in agreement. We’re going to turn them away. They won’t be safe with us. If anything they’ll be in more danger.”

Surprisingly it was Baekhyun who said angrily, “They came after us because they’re scared and they’re desperate. I don’t think they’ll care if they’re in danger. They just want to be with familiar faces and people they trust.”

Kris started to say, “We’re not equipped to--” but found his words trailing off as something odd began to happen.

“What the hell …” Suho let slip.

Luhan’s own eyes flew up to the sky where the sun was starting to blot out. 

No. It was too soon. He’d thought he had at least a few more hours.

“Is that,” Chen wondered aloud, “an eclipse?”

Baekhyun ground out in a question, “It’s happening, isn’t it, Luhan?”

Luhan felt all eyes on him, his friends and family desperate for information.

“I thought we had time,” Luhan said, breathing deep. “But I suppose we don’t.”

Around them the ground began to shake under their feet, and then the sun was gone completely, covering them in shadow.

“We need to get ready,” Luhan told them slowly. “We only have a few moments left.”

The ground lurched again, Luhan stumbled. The sun seemed as if it had never been there at all and the terrified screams of those around him were all Luhan could hear.

In the end it was pointless to attempt to communicate anything further about the impending battle because they were dashing in different directions. He heard Kris calling for him to wait at their agreed upon spot, then he was racing off with Suho to rally the troops. 

“Baekhyun.” With Tao and Chen going in opposite directions, Luhan caught Baekhyun’s arm in a fierce grip and told him sharply, “Mama told me. That’s how I know. About your gift not being gone. She told me that it’s still in you, and you can pull it out any time you need to. You’ve just been scared. You’ve been suppressing it whether you realized it or not. It’s still in you. She said to tell you, it’s in you and you have to use it.”

“Mama told you?”

“It never left you,” Luhan said, letting go of him a second later. “So use it.” Then he was sprinting away, heading for the battle armor he’d never worn before, and for the sword that had always been purely ceremonial. It probably wouldn’t be overly useful to him. He wasn’t a master at it like Tao, or even decent like Kris. But maybe if he got lucky he’d be able to cut through a shadow or too. They were wicked fast, but they lost body parts fairly easily and once they started bleeding out black, almost acidic blood, they were vulnerable.

The eclipse was fading by the time Luhan ended up next to Kris, weighed down by armor that was more than a little intimidating, standing on the overlook that gave them a perfect view of the battlefield. 

“Guys,” D.O. said, eyes almost comically wide as he moved into his own position. “Remember that really scary looking picture from the book?”

Luhan felt his palms sweating. A fissure had begun to cut across the ground the second the eclipse had started and from it had emerged a shadowy creature easily five or six times bigger than what they were used to dealing with, and seemingly a whole army of smaller creatures to go with it. 

“Are those teeth I see?” Sehun asked at Luhan’s elbow, a little pale. “Does that thing actually have teeth? You have got to be kidding me.”

Luhan spread his feet for a better sense of balance and told them, “That is the thing that has been hiding in the planet’s core for several hundred years, chipping away at Mama, waiting for the chance to gain the upper hand.”

And it had it, without a doubt.

Luhan almost startled as Kai inched in past Kris at Luhan’s other side, his hand slipping into Luhan’s, fingers squeezing reassuringly. “I’m here,” he said at a whisper, then louder, added, “You’re going to be ripping the place apart in a few seconds with your ability. I was kind of thinking I’d help you be as mobile as possible. Maximize our ass kicking. You game? We’ll pretend it’s a Striker match, and that thing’s head is the ball.”

Luhan could only grin foolishly back at him. “And here you are, cheering me on like you said you would.”

Kai gave him a frank look. “I don’t break my promises, Luhan, especially to people I love.”

Luhan couldn’t wait to see him again, no matter how long it would be.

There was no inspirational speech delivered by either Suho or Kris. There was very little rallying of the troops and hyping of the battle. Instead there was almost perfect silence, the air filled with their steady breathing and the occasional rattle of battle armor.

“Wait!” Lay called out sharply, rushing their way. He was flushed in the face by the time he reached them, in his own protective armor. Luhan knew he’d make his own stand as best he could, though in more of a defensive position. “Forget something?” He had their boxes. The boxes filled with their orbs.

“I say we go all out,” Chen said, reaching for his. Almost immediately the sky crackled, piercing light exploding from his lightening. Ahead of them the shadows shrieked from its intensity, and Chen gave a wolfish smile. “That’s what I’m talking about it.”

Kris gave them all a nod. “Now is the time.”

When Luhan had his own orb in hand, feeling the power sink into him as the orb disintegrated around his fingers, he felt an odd sense of serenity overwhelm him. He was ready to fight, ready to die, and ready for everything that came afterwards.

“Holy crap!” Xiumin called out, ice spreading out around him almost of its own violation as he grappled with the power surge.

Then it was Baekhyun who said simply, without an orb of his own, “I’m fighting today for Chanyeol, and to make sure no one else has to end up like him. What are you guys fighting for?”

D.O. made a low sound, then shrugged. “That sounds good to me. Any objections?”

Luhan cracked what he felt to be his last smile. “No. I don’t think anyone here has any objections to that.”

A shrill sound cut through the air and Luhan barely had time to register Kai wrapping an arm around him before they were teleporting, jetting everywhere, Luhan moving instinctively to call up every bit of power he’d worked so hard to reign in.

The truth was, Luhan had never tried to exercise everything that he was capable of. He knew people feared him and his ability, or rather the extent of it. And frankly, with his position as Kris’ betrothed, there had never been a need for him to use it for anything more than minor tasks.

Now, however, Kai controlling the flow of the fight from their end, it felt like coming home as he let it surge out of him.

He could feel the shadows around him, as his power rippled out. He could catch them so easily with his ability, immobilizing them, damaging them, and he could rip them into tiny pieces before they even registered the danger they were in. 

Some he flung so far away it would take ages for them to be found, and others he smashed into the ground with all his might.

It was draining in a way he wasn’t prepared for, but there was something oddly empowering about the way Kai held tight to him, almost lending him all the strength he had. Luhan had never felt so powerful. Even as the battled pushed on, his strength waning with how he exerted himself, he felt invincible.

The battle itself was almost beautiful, in an absolutely horrible way.

Kris soared above them, unleashing his dragon, working perfectly in synch with Tao who was able to hold large groups of shadows in place more than long enough for both Kris and their regular troops to take a crack at them.

Suho was easy to spot, directing his water at Xiumin who could manipulate and freeze it faster than he could manifest it himself. Together they were working their way through to the large beast who was ravaging through their regular soldiers without so much as batting an eye.

“Look!” Kai shouted, pointing over to D.O. and Chen who’d moved to protect the recent civilian arrivals. They were impossibly complimentary, D.O. pulling up the ground and Chen bringing the sky down. 

As the battle pushed on, hope began to build in Luhan’s chest. They weren’t meant to win, Mama hadn’t thought it was possible, but against the odds, they seemed to be pulling ahead. They were beating back the shadows, driving them into the ground and killing others outright.

A win wasn’t looking like an impossibility, which was something Luhan had never stopped to consider. 

Luhan gave a loud cry, chest burning in exhaustion as he used his ability to slam several shadows back into the fissure and stop others from emerging up from it. There was no telling how many were down there, but he was hoping to dissuade some of them from entering the battle. If they were even capable of such thoughts.

“Sehun!”

It was Kai, who’s mouth was too close to Luhan’s ear at the time of the yell, who broke Luhan from the trance he was in.

It was all too easy to determine what had happened as Sehun was flying through the air, tumbling head over feet before slamming into the ground too hard to be well. Lay, who at his current position was trying to heal the surrounding soldiers as quickly as he could, shouted his name loudly. And with a terrible drop in Luhan’s stomach, he realized the huge shadow they’d always feared, The Great Destroyer, was too close and focused on Lay for there to be any question to its intention. 

“Go to Sehun!” Luhan called to Kai. “Make sure he’s okay.” And before he could make sure Kai was following his directions, Luhan cut towards Lay, determined to protect his friend.

The huge shadow turned towards Luhan instead of Lay when he was close enough, probably sensing him as the bigger threat.

“Okay,” Luhan mumbled to himself, his fingers tingling and head pounding with a headache, “I can do this.” He pushed at the shadow with everything he had, every bit of telekinetic strength he had, needing to get it away from Lay. 

The shadow didn’t even budge for the first few seconds, roaring loudly, swiping at both the soldiers and other shadows who were too unlucky to be in close enough range.

Lay dashed out of the way at seemingly the last second, cutting around Luhan who was digging himself in for what could end up being his last stand. He felt Lay’s cool fingers on the back of his neck a second later, and a burst of energy returned to him.

“You can do it,” Lay mumbled in his ear. “You’re stronger than it is. There’s no one stronger than you on this planet.”

Luhan pushed harder, pulling up the last of his reserves, and he was rewarded with the shadow starting to inch backwards. Luhan recognized the burst of iron at the back of his throat, felt the warmth under his nose, and still he urged himself on. He had to do it. He had to win. He had to. It didn’t matter if it took every bit of him, he had to win against the gigantic shadow.

Behind him Lay wilted down to the ground, gasping hard, completely spent. Luhan couldn’t imagine how much of his ability he’d exerted, or how hard he’d pushed himself. But he looked as if he’d be able to offer Luhan no further help.

Kris, in the periphery of Luhan’s vision, dipped too close to the ground and was caught by a shadow at the ankle. He crashed viciously to the ground, and at the same time Suho gave a strangled cry, a shadow wrestling him down to the dirt. 

And suddenly, as Luhan felt his own weariness start to seriously threaten him, he realized that the situation had turned for them.

Tao wasn’t holding the shadows for more than a few seconds now.

Chen’s lightening strikes were slowing.

D.O, was quiet and still on the ground.

Sehun wasn’t moving either, and Kai was shouting hoarsely for Lay who was pale and shaking.

A scream broke out from Luhan’s throat and the shadow matched it, pushing back, throwing Luhan’s power to the side. It made a suspiciously victorious sound, regaining its posture while Luhan crashed to his knees.

“Luhan!” Lay caught him, a last burst of healing cutting through him.

Luhan pushed him away, able to roll to safety just as one of the shadows’ gigantic fists came down, spreading death and decade to the ground under them. Lay tumbled away, not moving, and Luhan gasped for air as he felt his upper lip wet with what could only be a nosebleed.

He noticed something beautiful then. 

“There it is,” Luhan found himself whispering, catching the remarkable sight of Baekhyun, light blaring from his hands, fighting back to back with a regular soldier.

This was his chance. The shadows were distracted, even the big one, by Baekhyun’s magnificent light show. He had to capitalize on it.

Expending everything he had, unleashing every bit of power left in his body, was the most excruciatingly painful thing Luhan had ever done. He screamed with all his might, his skin feeling like it was going to peel off, and with his hands braced on the ground, he did his best to tear everything to shreds.

And when he staggered the huge shadow, forcing it down to its knees as it wailed in pain, Luhan felt something snap inside himself. But harder he still pushed himself. He had to give everything he could, until his last ounce of strength was gone.

With one final desperate and sacrificial explosion of power, Luhan ripped through his huge enemy, shredding it to pieces and spraying the surrounding area of sizzling, black blood.

A half second later Luhan was falling, crashing down the dirt, spent and dying.

Kai teleported immediately to Luhan’s side and then they were gone, to the edge of the battle.

As Kai hissed at Luhan, demanding to know what to do, Luhan watched from as distance as the life faded from Sehun, and it was as if he could sense it was already missing from D.O.. Was it the life seed in him that convinced him that he could feel every soul that was lost? Was it the last bit of Mama’s power in him? Or was he simply losing his mind?

“Luhan?” Kai shook him a bit, trying to wipe at the blood on Luhan’s face with his sleeve. “Luhan, please. I need to know what to do.”

Luhan gave a wet cough, spilling blood down his mouth as he gasped for air he couldn’t quite draw in.

“Luhan,” Kai choked out, holding him preciously. “Please, no.”

A sob clenched at Luhan’s heart as his cousin lay sprawled out below them on the battle field, chest unmoving.

It was just like his vision he’d had so many weeks ago. It was the exact scene that he had seen with traumatizing clarity, with everyone dying, the ground turning to ash around them, and the sky falling. He hadn’t been able to contextualize the vision at the time, but now it was so horribly evident that he’d been seeing a final, terrible battle that they were always meant to lose.

“Luhan!”

He couldn’t breathe! Luhan’s hands tore at his own throat, fingers sliding through the blood coating his skin as if trying to coax air through the passageway. 

“I don’t know what to do!” Kai shouted, tears streaming down his face. “Luhan! I don’t know how to help you!”

“Your promise,” Luhan gasped out, coughing out more blood as everything started to blur around the edges. It was going dark so fast.

Kai clutched Luhan tightly to him, rocking them as the planet seemed to shudder around them. “My promise,” Kai swore at him. “If I lose you, if we’re separated, I’ll find you. I swear I’ll find you! I’ll get the others and I’ll never forget anything.”

The sky was breaking into shards, falling down around them, and they were sinking down as the ground collapsed in on itself.

“I love you,” Luhan managed, his vision going completely. And he wanted to believe, with every bit of his heart, that he was certain he heard Kai say it back. . 

It would be hard at first. Luhan was under no false belief that it would be anything but difficult. They’d be scattered, spread out everywhere. It would be hard to come together, and they might not recognize each other. But they’d be together eventually. They’d have Earth. And in time, because Mama had promised it, they would find each other again. 

Kai wouldn’t stop looking. Kai would find and unite them all.

“Luhan!” Kai shouted desperately.

As Luhan died, his soul leaving his body, it wasn’t scary in the least bit. If anything, it was a comfort to finally be able to rest and dream, and be free.


	26. Jongin

Kai had already finished his kimchi and fried rice, was on his third glass of water and was contemplating getting up to pay the bill when the door to the small, out of the way shop on the fringes of Seoul opened. Part of him hadn’t really expected much. After all, there had been disappointment before, and there probably would be again. He always told himself what he needed most was patience, but it was a hard thing to come by most days.

Still, every once in a while the world managed to surprise him, and this looked to be one of those days.

“Kai,” his companion said quietly, the man still nursing a warm, steaming bowl of beef stew. “Look.”

Kai let his fingers press against the condensation on the water glass as he whistled out, “Well, I’ll be damned. He showed.”

There, looking like he’d come against what seemed his better judgment, and blocking the door for any other customers, was Chanyeol. The sight of him honestly took Kai’s breath away. He looked young and healthy and downright gorgeous, compared to what he’d been like the last time Kai had seen him, deteriorating before his eyes.

It had always been a truth he’d see Chanyeol again, but it was no small relief it was happening now. It felt to Kai like he hadn’t seen him in forever. Or more like a generation. He supposed it had been. 

“He looks nervous,” Xiumin said from across Kai. 

“He does,” Kai agreed. Then he frowned, watching the door swing open again behind him. “And he’s not alone.”

“Impossible,” Xiumin murmured.

Two more recognizable faces were in Kai’s periphery a second later, and they had him more choked up than Chanyeol’s appearance.

“We’re living proof of the impossible,” Kai told him. “And you know as well as I do, there’s no one more stubborn in existence than the lot of us guardians.” Kai had to shake his head with an amused smile. “Kris and Tao. They found their way to each other without needing my help. Go figure.”

Xiumin gave him a side look. “But do you think they remember?”

Kai raised an arm, indicating that he was the man who had sent the email to Chanyeol that had drawn him to the restaurant.

“Doubtful,” Kai said, straightening up. “But when you love someone as much as they do, you don’t need to remember someone to fall in love with them again.”

With squared shoulders Chanyeol made his way over to the table and asked in a low, hesitant voice, “You’re Jongin?”

A bit miffed, Kai questioned, “You don’t remember me? I’m crushed. And you can call me Kai, if you want. You used to. In fact, it was the only name you knew me by.”

Before Chanyeol could respond, Kris cut forward, angling himself defensively in front of Chanyeol and demanding, “We want to know how you know our friend. How did you get his email? Why are you harassing him?”

Seated next to him, Xiumin stirred his spoon through his soup and gestured for the three boys to join them. He said, “Kai wasn’t harassing you or your friends, Kris” Xiumin assured, and Kai wondered if it was better to cling to the past or start calling him Minseok. “He’s just excited. He found Chanyeol fairly easily. That hasn’t always happened before.”

Kris thundered, face pinched, “How do you know my name?”

Kai shrugged, “I can call you Yifan if you prefer. That’s your name here, isn’t it? But I know you go by Kris, too.”

Kai had very much known that Kris was living in the area. He’d checked in on him months ago, pleased to find him living a happy, peaceful life, albeit with apparently no memories of before. Kai hadn’t moved on his location or directly sought him out because he’d seemed so content with his life, and because there were other guardians still missing. Like Tao and Chanyeol, but apparently they’d done most of Kai’s work for him.

Maybe guardians were naturally pulled to each other? These three weren’t the only ones to group up.

“Listen to yourself,” Tao said, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know who you think you are but--”

Kai cut him off, “If you’ll all sit down and calm yourselves, I can explain everything. And trust me, this is an explanation you want to hear. I can help you. I can give you back what’s been lost. And I’d like to do it before it gets too late. I don’t know about all of you, but I have a mother here, weird, I know, and she’ll worry if I don’t come home at a decent time.” 

Xiumin gave him a less than pleased look and Kai decided that attempting to think of him as Minseok felt weird. Xiumin felt like coming home. 

Kai cleared his throat and said to Chanyeol, trying to give him a reassuring grin, “I’m thankful your parents had sense enough to name him something recognizable. I knew finding everyone would be a challenge, but I didn’t know there’d be extra obstacles like this. Name changes. Who’d have thought?”

Chanyeol sat heavily in the chair across from Kai, flanked by Kris and a now quiet Tao. He put his hands gingerly on the table and said slowly, “In the email you … knew things about me. Things that I haven’t ever told anyone. You shouldn’t have known the things that you said in it, that’s what convinced me to come here today.”

Xiumin pressed, “The both of us know a lot more about you than you know about yourself. And about you, Kris. Even you, Tao. We know what you’re hiding, even from your families. We know what makes you different.”

Tao stiffed immediately and Kris looked considerably dangerous.

Kai gave a short look around the shop. The five or them were the only customers and the elderly couple that both owned and operated the store were in the back, hidden from view. It would take so little to give the tiniest of proof related to what Xiumin was speaking of. And it would do a lot more to further their cause than mere words.

“Don’t,” Xiumin warned, sensing his thoughts easily. “It’s too dangerous and you know it. We don’t need to draw any unnecessary eyes to us, and the government is already too suspicious, thanks to your childhood flare.”

He knew it was a bad idea, but a smile was already stretching across Kai’s face and he was blinking out of view. 

For the most part, he and Xiumin did their very best to lay low. They kept to themselves, tried to act as ordinary as possible, and blended in as normal college students. The alternative was a future so scary that Kai was terrified death might be a mercy from it. They couldn’t be caught or exposed, because if they were …

Still, every once in a while Kai had to flex his ability and indulge himself. He felt like he’d go crazy if he didn’t.

When he came back, less than a few seconds later, someone had overturned the glass of water on the table and a chair was knocked back. There were wide eyes all around as Xiumin reached out to freeze the water before it could spill everywhere.

An eyebrow arched, Kai asked, “Now you understand at least a little, right? You’re not the only one.”

Shakily, Chanyeol said, “When I was five I set my house on fire. It was an accident and we all got out, but we lost everything. I set the fire. Without any matches or a lighter or any sort of propellant. It just happened because I was upset and I never told anyone because I was scared of … well, me.” He paused, frowned, then said, “But I already know I’m not the only one who can do these kinds of things. There are others.”

Kai had to had to hand it to him, he was careful not to give anyone else’s secrets away. But Kai already knew them.

Still, it was Xiumin who said, “We know your friends have different abilities. We know what they are, too.”

Kris opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the jingle on the door to the restaurant sounding.

Kai stood immediately, warmly grinning at Lay who was running a late, but always a welcomed addition.

“Sorry,” Lay said, bowing respectfully to them as he pulled his bag over his head and set it carefully down on the table. “I got held up at the hospital.”

Almost boastfully Kai said, “Lay is on the pre med fast track program. He’ll be a doctor before I even graduate from college.” And just thinking about how hard it had been to find Lay, all the way in China, was enough to inspire a headache. Getting him to come to Korea, using his study of medicine as front was easy enough, but the initial locating was still somewhat traumatizing. It had taken years, in fact.

A series of emotions played out openly on Lay’s face as he caught sight of the others. “I’m Yixing,” Lay said, sitting. “But Chanyeol, Tao, Kris, you all knew me as Lay. You can call me whichever you prefer.” 

“Lay has something to show you,” Kai said. “He’s been helping me compile some important things, for when we found you and the others.”

As Lay began rooting around in his bag, and Xiumin stacked their dishes up, it was Tao who surprised Kai, telling him in the quietest of voices, “I’ve seen your face before.”

Kai’s face ached he smiled so wide. “I missed you, Tao. We didn’t start out as friends, in fact I think we’ve tried to kill each other several times, but by the end I was proud to stand with you. You were my brother before the end.”

“You’re talking nonsense,” Kris said angrily. 

“Here it is,” Lay said, pulling a heavy, thick book out from his bag. He set it carefully on the table and laid a hand on it. “I want you all to look at this and do your best to take it seriously.”

Kai paused to look at the book. For years he and Lay and Xiumin had been working on filling its pages. The original book, the one that they’d desperately studied looking for clues to win an impossible war, had been lost with the destruction of Exo. But this replica would do for the time being. And it would be even better when someone like Baekhyun could contribute to it.

“Show them,” Kai commanded. “And let’s hope for the best.”

Lay pushed the book towards Chanyeol and said, “Take your time looking at the pages.”

Chanyeol had only just cracked the book open when Kai said, “It maybe impossible for you to believe me right now, but this isn’t our first trip through the circle of life.”

“Funny,” Xiumin snorted blandly next to him. 

Kai rolled his eyes. “What I mean is, we used to be alive before. We used to exist before. It wasn’t an easy life, and we fought a lot, both with ourselves and things much worse, but my point is, we’ve been reincarnated.”

Kris’ face scrunched up. “Bullshit.”

Lay volunteered, “Were not sure why only initially Kai remembered our past upon us being reborn this time. But some of us remember the moment we’re exposed to his presence, and others don’t. For some, it takes time. I knew him the moment I saw him. It took Xiumin close to a week to start to remember.”

“I don’t remember,” Chanyeol said, turning the pages of the book reverently. “But is it weird I sort of feel like I should?”

“Tao?” Kris asked, pulling their attention to the younger man. “What’s wrong?”

Tao pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Headache.”

“That’s how it starts,” Xiumin said knowingly. “You’ll be remembering before the end of the day.”

With a dry laugh, Kai told Kris, “I’d actually prefer if you didn’t remember right away that the last time we were alive, I kind of stole your husband out from right under you.”

Kris’ eyes widened. 

“Stop being so overdramatic,” Lay said, almost as if they were children. “Kris, it was a marriage that was one of convenience and arranged since your childhood. There was no love there and it wasn’t a slight. Not really. Not once all the confusion was cleared up.”

“If it’ll make you feel better,” Xiumin said dismissively, “you were a king. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

Chanyeol looked up from the book and asked, “Are there more of us? More than just us six?”

“Reborn?” Kai said. “There should be twelve. There were twelve guardians then ,and there should be twelve of us now.”

“And have you found others?” Kris wanted to know. “Or are we the first?”

Lay nodded. “We found others before you and spoke with them. Two others.”

“I found my best friend first,” Kai confided. “And there wasn’t a single spark of recognition for over a month. I thought he wouldn’t ever remember me.”

“Then we found Commander Suho,” Xiumin said.

“Commander?” Chanyeol arched an eyebrow.

“Just Suho now,” Lay said, voice walking a delicate edge. “He came looking for us, actually. He’d had an encounter with Kai by accident, started to remember us, and he was the one to seek us out.”

For Kai, who’d spent so long being the sole carrier of the memories of their past life, it had been the first great reward to watch Suho wrap Lay up in strong, determined arms and tug him off his feat with a cry of joy. They’d kissed and kissed and kissed endlessly, in the middle of a bustling marketplace, not caring one bit who might see, and Kai had goofily protected their moment by glaring at anyone who thought to interrupt it. Lay and Suho hadn’t had long, not when it was taken into account how the war had damaged their ability to have a proper courtship, but it seemed their feelings had been real from the start. And they were still real now.

Xiumin’s fingers tapped restlessly against the puddle of ice that was steadily melting. “We got lucky with Suho in a lot of ways. Maybe with D.O., too. They’d been going under the names Joonmyun and Kyungsoo. Our saving grace seemed to be that Suho was looking for us just as much as we were looking for him, and D.O. liked Kai enough as a friend now to stick around long enough for his memories to start to come back.”

“Hey,” Kai interrupted, “This is an important page. Look.” He pulled the book pages back for Chanyeol until he was at the final page. Oddly enough, it had been the first part Kai had added.

Chanyeol visibly paled. “This is … not possible.”

Kai ran his fingers over the twelve portraits on the back page. “I didn’t draw these my self, but I do know this wicked good artist who I took a calculus class with a few years ago. I described you all to him, exactly how I remembered you looking, and he drew this. It’s pretty flawless. And okay, maybe it’s a little egotistical to put our pictures in a book about how bad we screwed up, but I wanted to make it as comprehensive as possible.”

Chanyeol’s fingers brushed across the portraits until they stopped suddenly, his face paling. “Baekhyun.” He looked up at Kai. “He’s important to me. I can’t remember him or why, but I know he is.”

Xiumin pointed a sharp finger at him. “When we find him, he’s in Busan by the way, he’s going to kill you over that. You two were practically attached at the hip. Married. Or you were going to get married.”

“You were in love,” Lay clarified. “And you died to save his life.”

Chanyeol fell quiet and Kai said “We were planning on approaching him next month. Honestly, I wanted to get you first.

Kris turned the book towards himself for a better look. “This is ludicrous.”

Chanyeol ignored Kris. “Why me first?”

“I don’t mean that I’ve been prioritizing people based on how much I liked them the last time we were alive,” Kai laughed. “But I certainly liked you at lot the first time we were alive. You were funny, and my friend, and you helped someone that I really love when you didn’t have, and your instincts probably should have been telling you to shoot on sight. But no, I just meant that Xiumin, Lay and I are trying to find the guardians who ended up alone. The ones that need us most. Some of us gravitated towards each other, as evidenced by you three. And some didn’t. I thought you were alone, Chanyeol, and you were the first to die. I thought you deserved to get your memories back sooner, rather than later.”

“Kai.” Xiumin nudged his friend. “Tell the rest of it. Tell them what they deserve to know.”

Lay stood and said, “I’ll go get some more food. We’re going to need it.”

“Tell us everything,” Tao urged. “We’ll believe you.”

It took several hours, all in all. Kai ended up draining all of his wallet and most of Xiumin’s buying new rounds of food for their guests, answering all the questions they had and waiting patiently as it sunk in.

“You’re taking this better than Xiumin,” Kai said when the trio had fallen silent. He grinned salaciously at his friend. “He tried to get a restraining order against me.”

Xiumin crossed his arms. “Really? You’re going to bring that up?”

“Even after seeing you … what you can do?” Chanyeol asked in disbelief.

“I was a little shocked,” Xiumin said with a shrug. “But it started coming back to me the more we talked. I don’t think I should be blamed for having a natural reaction to what seemed like the ranting of a crazy man who’d been stalking me for weeks.”

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Kris said. “But the evidence …”

“But how did we end up here?” Tao asked, leaning forward. “You said we died? On another planet? How did we end up here on Earth?”

Bitterness crept up Kai’s spine. Bitterness and anger at what had happened. “Someone,” Kai managed, “was looking out for us. He … pulled a lot of strings behind the scenes to try and ensure our future. He preserved the last bit of Mama that we had and it was enough to protect our souls after death. We were reborn because of his sacrifice, on a planet that was safer for us, and gave us a real shot at having a long life.”

“Maybe more than just us guardians,” Lay said.

Xiumin added, “It’s possible all the people of Exo have been reborn. We initially thought that just the guardians were reborn here on Earth, but we’ve come across others like us, with abilities, who after having contact with Kai, seemed to remember at last partial things from their past lives. It seems plausible that everyone who was on Exo at the time the planet died, was reborn. We don’t have any hope of finding the ones that were normal, they’ll be impossible to distinguish, but the ones with abilities, it’s possible to find them. For obvious reasons.”

Tao counted out, “So there were twelve of us. And you’ve found … seven?”

Kai corrected, “Eight. Well, Baekhyun and Chen make ten, and they’re both in Busan. They’re not together, and they don’t even know each other, but geographically speaking, they’re in the same area.

Confidently, Xiumin said, “We’ll find everyone. We’ll be together again. It’s fortunate that almost all of us ended up being reborn in the same area. It’s probably more on purpose than accident.”

“I made a promise,” Kai said. A promise that he couldn’t afford to break. “I’m going to find everyone, especially him.”

“Him?” Chanyeol asked, confused.

Lay gave him a small, discrete look, one that Kai caught, but the message seemed to be clear. And there were some things Kai wasn’t ready to share with all of them. There were some things he had to keep to himself, if only for a little while longer. 

Three weeks later Kai was introducing Baekhyun to Chanyeol for the first time since they’d died. And after mere minutes, the fastest recovery time of memories to date, Baekhyun was massaging his temples, complaining of a headache, and then hugging Kai tightly with intimacy that could only mean he was whole and complete again.

And if Suho’s reunion with Lay had been romantic, Chanyeol’s with Baekhyun was just hilarious.

“It’s not my fault!” Chanyeol wailed as Baekhyun struck him heavily over the back of the head. 

“We were in love,” Baekhyun shouted back. “We were going to get married and have kids!. How could you just forget me?”

Chanyeol covered his head protectively. “Kai said I died to protect you. Doesn’t that mean something?”

Kai, now feeling like an interloper, took a step back as Baekhyun took a deep breath. Then he reached up, cupping the sides of Chanyeol’s face, and kissed him softly. “It means everything to me, okay? Losing you is the worst thing that I have ever experienced in my life, and I remember dying. So don’t think for a second that you don’t mean everything in the world to me.”

Quietly, Chanyeol said, bumping his forehead against Baekhyun’s, “I wish I could remember you.”

“You will,” Baekhyun assured. “And I think a part of you does, even if you don’t realize it.”

Chanyeol’s head cocked “What makes you say that?”

Baekhyun sighed. “Because your hand is on my ass.”

Kai laughed loudly and stepped back to give them even more privacy. Chanyeol would remember, and he and Baekhyun would be okay. In fact they were going to be better than okay. Kai couldn’t be happier for them.

For Chen a few weeks later, there was no clandestine reunion of lovers. But he listened carefully and quietly as Kai spoke to him, and flipped through the book with keen eyes. Then, when Kai was quiet, Chen wanted to know, “Why did you wait so long to come for me? Why was I last?”

Kai put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I knew where you were before this for a while. And I made a promise to find everyone, but I also had to use my better judgment with you. You were reborn extra special, Chen. You’re getting a full ride to study whatever you want in college. You’ve got the vocal talent to land yourself a recording contract anywhere you want. And you have a lot of friends and family who gladly occupy all your time. And the simple truth is you have more going for you than most of the others. I wanted to give you time to grow up normal and have a regular life before I blew into it and destroyed everything you knew to be real.” Kai sighed, “I was trying to do you a favor. But I was always going to come for you.”

A little haphazardly, Chen chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, saying, “I guess I understand. Now, when do I get to see the others?”

“Do you remember them already?”

“No,” Chen said honestly. “But they’re supposed to be important to me, so it doesn’t matter if I do or not.”

Kai thumbed behind him. “I’ve actually got a couple of them with me. I’ll introduce you.”

While he waited for Chen to join him, Kai made his way to where he’d left his friends, less than a block away, at a quaint, outside café. Tao was easy to spot, perched on the edge of a chair as he dug into ice cream that looked far too big for on person to eat. But Lay and Suho were a few tables away, talking with their backs to him, and while it was wrong, it was too easy to pick up on their conversation when he was close enough.

He could hear Lay telling Suho, “I’ve never told Kai this, but I had your face in my dreams since I was a child. I didn’t know who you were, but I never forgot you. Not even for a second.”

Suho grinned. “We didn’t have a lot of time together before, but this is a whole new planet. We’re new people, even if our souls are the same. I was hoping we could try again. Can we get dinner some time?”

Kai was almost too caught up in the reunions around them to notice Chen coming up to stand at his shoulder.

“They look a lot in love,” Chen observed. 

Kai nodded. “They are, and they really deserve each other.”

“Introduce me,” Chen prompted, and nudged Kai playfully. “I want to meet the people I willingly and proudly died fighting with.”

After that, with the ten of them together, or at the very least aware of each other, memories slowly tricking back, Kai felt at least like he’d done something to honor his promise. It wasn’t complete, and there was more work to do, but for the moment, he was the slightest bit proud of himself.

At least until Lay reminded him as the new year lapsed, “We’re not complete, you know. Ten is not twelve.”

“I’m looking,” Kai snapped, then apologized for his tone and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no account of them in South Korea. I have to hope that they’re together. They should at least have each other.”

Lay pondered, “Why would they end up somewhere different than us? From the other people from Exo?”

“I don’t know.” Kai shook his head. “But it isn’t impossible they’re not in the country. You weren’t. Kris wasn’t born here, and neither was Tao. Maybe they were here at first, but then had to go. I’ve heard some things, from some of the others from Exo. Some of the others with abilities. There’s talk of the government rumblings and coming danger. Maybe they were worried about being exposed and left. Sehun is a powerful elemental and … and …”

“You have to say his name sometime, you know,” Lay said gently.

“I know.” Kai just couldn’t. Not yet.

Having the ten of them together was something special. They were stronger than ever and the closest of friends. As Kai hunted endlessly for the last two to complete them, he found himself getting caught up in college, sharing an apartment with several of the guardians and simply living his life. Part of him was missing, and his heart ached every day, but the days flew past and the seasons changed. 

And eventually, Kai began to feel disheartened. 

“Hey, Kai. You got a letter.”

Almost a full two years after the ten of them had been reunited, back from classes and feeling too tired for the day to do anything that required real effort, Kai collapsed along the second-hand couch that he and D.O. had dragged up three flights of stairs, and hollered back at Chen, “From who? My parents?” No one wrote letters anymore, and Kai couldn’t imagine who’d have the time or patience to send him one.

“Don’t know. You know someone in America?” Chen tossed the letter to him. But it wasn’t a letter. It was a postcard. “And hurry up. Lay and Suho want to go for dinner in about an hour. They seem to be under the impression that we like having to watch them be all cutesy.”

Kai looked over the glossy picture on the front, a snapshot of a majestic looking forest. “I don’t know anyone in America.” 

“Well?” Chen asked, taking a seat next to him. “Who’s sending you something from America? What is it?”

The postcard advertised some place called Oregon, which ended up being a Western state in America. And on the backside of the postcard, where a message could be written, there were simple coordinates and a freehand sketch of something that stole Kai’s breath away like he’d been punched in the gut.

“Someone sent you a picture of a place in America and drew a flower on the back?” Chen asked. 

“It’s not just any flower,” Kai said, voice wavering almost dramatically. “It’s a Midnight bloom. And I know who sent this.”

It was hard to explain the feelings running through Kai, crashing into each other, making his stomach flip over and his mind whirl. It was hard to imagine that this was the moment he’d been looking forward to since before he had even died.

“Kai?” Chen asked.

“I think,” Kai said, ambling up to his feet, “that Lay and Suho are about to get a rain check.”

And Kai needed his passport.

“You didn’t need to come with me,” Kai told D.O. several times, on the plane, as they arrived in America, and during the time it took to head up to Oregon. 

Each time D.O. replied, “You’re my best friend and you’re a magnet for trouble. There’s no way I’m letting you do this alone.” Plus, if there was even a chance that they were on their way to find the last two guardians, Kai had a feeling that D.O. wanted to be included. 

Kai was grateful.

They traveled for a bit more, leaving little time for rest, and anticipation built in Kai’s chest. The best kind of anticipation, but also with the greatest capacity for disappointment.

“This is the place,” Kai announced after some time. He looked at the expansive forest in front of him, a perfect replica of what had been on the postcard. “This is where we’re supposed to be.”

“Why?” D.O. asked flatly. “If we wanted to see a bunch of trees we could have stayed in Korea. What makes this place so special?”

“Because,” a voice drawled behind them, “this is where Mama’s new life tree is growing.”

Kai felt his eyes burn a little with unshed tears. “Sehun. You’re here.”

Sehun, looking healthy and happy, rocked a little back on the balls of his feet and grinned. “And now so are you, Kai. I take it you got the post card.” 

“You sent it?” D.O. asked, surprised. “Wait, you remember us?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Sehun ground out, but the smile on his face remained. “And of course I remember you. I never forgot you.”

“Oh,” Kai said, forcing his face not to betray his feelings. “I don’t mean for you to think I don’t want to see you. I’ve missed you.”

D.O. mumbled, “Sorry. Kai was hoping that it was someone else.”

“Luhan?” Sehun asked, voice airy and light. “Oh, I might have sent the post card, but that’s because he can’t really leave all that often, even just to go into town, and when he does it makes him super irritable. He’s the one who told me to send it, but I did the footwork.”

Kai froze. “Luhan is here? Right now?”

Sehun thumbed over his shoulder, towards a far patch of trees. “He’s always over there, watching over the--hey!”

Sehun almost lost his footing as Kai dashed by. 

Kai heard D.O. demand behind him, “If you and Luhan were here the whole time, and remembered everything, why the hell didn’t you contact us until now!” But none of that mattered. The only important thing was getting to Luhan’s side, and seeing with his own eyes that he was fine.

The forest was densely packed and Kai was worried he was losing his way. He was terrified of getting turned around and delaying his reunion with Luhan any further. But he pressed on, chest huffing, never so determined in his life.

There was a slight clearing of trees up ahead, and Kai veered towards it., trying to block out the sudden image of the last time he’d seen Luhan alive. It was a moment he’d tried to erase from his mind for as long as he’d been aware of it. Luhan, dying in his arms, occupied all of his nightmares.

He slipped on some moss, nearly tumbled to the ground, then skidded to a complete stop, eyes searching the area in front of him.

Luhan.

He could see Luhan, sitting on the grass in shorts and a tee that boasted about Californian beaches. His hair was sandy brown, with a hint of blond, and he looked utterly healthy and flushed pleasantly with color. He was clearly getting lots of sun, and was looking much less frail than the last time they had been together. Behind him was a young tree, still using supports to keep it upright as it grew. It drew Kai’s attention for more than a second, reeking of familiarity, but then Kai was running again, zeroed in on Luhan who had finally seen him.

“Luhan.”

Kai skidded to a stop some feet in front of him, chest heaving and eyes watering. 

“Kai,” Luhan returned, smiling warmly as he climbed to his feet. His bare feet wiggled on the grass and he looked completely at ease. “I missed you.”

Slowly and deliberately, Kai asked, “You remember me?”

Luhan’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “How could I forget the person I love more than anyone else in this world or any other.”

Kai couldn’t make his feet move and he felt dumb simply standing there, but he also felt betrayed. “Why didn’t you find me? You remembered. You obviously knew where I was. Why didn’t you find me? You made me think that you wouldn’t be able to look for me, and I would have to find you. But all this time, you’ve been perfectly fine here, while I needed you.”

Patiently, Luhan replied, “Don’t you remember what I told you? When I suggested that this was the future we’d have, scattered and in need of being reunited? I told you that you had to prioritize the other guardians, and there could be no exceptions to that. I told you that because I knew where we were going afterwards, they would need you and I wouldn’t. Your task was to find them. My task was to stay here. I had to be here with the life tree, protecting it just in case.”

Kai looked around Luhan. “Life tree?”

“I had the life seed, Kai. I had it hidden in me, the last bit of Mama before the rest of her died. That life seed is what allowed us to be reborn, and in return all that Mama asked was that I protect it with my life, plant its when it was safe, and nurture it for a while.” Luhan’s expression softened. “I couldn’t contact you, Kai. No matter how much I wanted to. I had to be here, the only place on Earth where the life tree can grow, and I had to watch over it. I guarded the life tree and Sehun guarded me. But you would be amiss to believe that if I had the choice, I wouldn’t rather be with you. So many times I have wanted to just be with you, maybe at our spot on Exo, or anywhere on this planet, and forget everything. I wanted to just lay with you and forget the world.”

Almost angrily, Kai asked, “I couldn’t be the one to protect you?”

“No.” Luhan shook his head. “Sehun bonded with the life seed on Exo. The choice was made then.”

“I looked everywhere for you,” Kai shot back. “I was convinced that the only reason you hadn’t come to me was because you didn’t have your memories. What other reason would there be? So I looked and I looked and I felt like such a failure. My heart hurt and I felt like the others should blame me. And now, to find out that you were here the whole time--”

“Kai,” Luhan said, tone pleading. “If I could have come to you sooner I would have. But I couldn’t risk the life tree. Mama gave her life to protect us, Kai. She gave her life so that we could have just enough power to be reborn in a safer place. I’m doing this in return because I am so utterly grateful that you are alive and well and that I get to spend even one more minute with you. Do you get that? Do you understand? She died so that you could live. How can I not be in her debt? How can I not do this one thing for her?”

There was nothing deceitful or purposely hurtful about Luhan’s words, and Kai understood completely, but he was still in pain. He still blamed Luhan for their delayed reunion, even if that wasn’t fair.

Firmly, Luhan said, “The life tree can’t protect itself yet, and I can’t protect myself while I watch over it. All my energy goes to it. There are no shadows here, Kai, but there are plenty of people who suspect what we can do, and if they ever found out about the life tree, or where it was, we would all be in deep trouble. Please, understand that this isn’t something I chose, but it is an honor and I wouldn’t change it for a second.”

“For how long?” Kai asked, voice even. “How long have you been taking care of the life tree?”

Fondly, Luhan looked to the small life tree. “A long time now--my whole life. Every morning I get up and come here, and every night I go home and worry about what might happen while I’m gone. But never doubt that every second of every day I’m also thinking about you. I’m thinking about the first time we met, the first time you told me you loved me, the flowers you’d bring me, how we’d sneak out at night, how bravely you fought next to me in the end, the promise you made me, and the future we might have.”

Kai’s feet, filled seemingly with cement, finally let him edge closer. “Why did you tell Sehun to send the postcard? Why now?”

The sound of laughter cut through the air and nearby Kai was able to make out a couple of forms, mostly belonging to children, cutting through the woods. There were more people, too, upon second glance. Some were older children and teenagers, and a few adults. They might have seemed normal to anyone else, but Kai’s eyes narrowed as he watched one of the teenagers float across the grass, while another sprouted flowers and plants with every step he took. 

Even further out in the distance Kai saw a young woman launch herself up off the ground and immediately there was bird fluttering away in her place.

“What is this place?” Kai asked a bit numbly. 

“A safe haven,” Luhan said. “A place for Exo’s children to come and feel at ease. The truth is, we’re all Terran now. We’re all of Earth. But some of us need to remember the past more than others, and this is the place to do it. Mama’s life tree instinctively draws Exo’s children, and those men in suits who would seek to exploit and hurt us, can’t do that here.”

“So you’re protecting more than just the life tree,” Kai mused. “You’re also protecting the people of Exo. I … I get it. You couldn’t risk Mama, and you couldn’t risk the others.”

“Not while I was fulfilling my duty to Mama. You would never hurt anyone here, but there are those who would use you. Until I was absolutely sure, I couldn’t contact you. Until my duty was finished, I couldn’t bring you here.”

Not until .. .did that mean ….

“Luhan … your duty.”

Luhan moved wicked fast, throwing himself forward. He hooked his arms around Kai’s shoulders and kissed his mouth with a grin. “There are others here now, Kai, others from Exo. Adults who I remember and can be trusted. They’ll watch over the life tree. I’ve fulfilled my duty to Mama.”

Kai’s arms went instinctively around Luhan, holding him tightly, burying his face in Luhan’s neck. “We can be together now?”

“We can be together forever,” Luhan replied.

Kai tangled his hands up into Luhan’s short, curly hair. “I should have trusted you to be doing what you needed to. I should have trusted that you wouldn’t want us separated more than I would.”

“You kept your promise, Kai, and that’s all that matters. You did what you were supposed to.” Luhan caught his face in his hands and kissed him again. “You brought the guardians together. You united them, and then you started looking for me. You did what was expected of you, and proved that your soul was worthy of rebirth. Thank you, for making Mama’s sacrifice worth while in the end. Thank you for being the man I love.”

Kai rested his chin on Luhan’s shoulder and thought that maybe he was being given too much credit. “How do you know I got everyone together? You’ve only seen D.O..”

“Because you’re Kai,” Luhan said, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. 

Drawing back slowly, Kai pushed Luhan to arm’s length and took a long, real look at him. He deduced, “You’re not as thin as I remember, and definitely healthier looking. Also you’re tanner, like you’re actually getting the sun you need. You look so much better.”

“And do I meet with your approval?” Luhan asked in a jovial tone.

Kai blew out a long breath. “You’re still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. And yes, I am still as in love with you now, as I was the day I first told you I was. I love you, Luhan. And I’m ready for us to finally get to be together, and grow old together. I think we’ve paid our dues. Don’t you?”

“Hey, guys!” Sehun called from behind them, sounding at a distance. 

Luhan looked to be ignoring Sehun’s approach, returning, “I love you, too, Kai, and yes, we’ve more than paid our dues.”

“Are you two having a moment?” D.O. teased from next to Sehun when they were a bit closer. “Luhan, good to see you. Kai, stop looking like you’re about to swoon.”

“A heartfelt one,” Kai threw at him. “And you just ruined it. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Immensely,” D.O. chuckled. Then he threw out, “I was thinking, Luhan, that Sehun explained to me that you guys are ready to pass the torch of Mama’s life tree off to someone else, so how about we go home? I know a lot of people who’ve missed you two.”

“I missed you, too,” Luhan told him, his smile almost blinding. “I missed all of you more than you can imagine.”

“You had me,” Sehun protested, a grin on his face. “But I can’t wait to see the others. It feels like forever since I’ve seen them.”

There was such contentment in Kai that he barely dared to ask Luhan, “You said your duty here was done. Does that really mean …. can you come back with me? To Korea? Or we don’t have to stay there. We can go anywhere in the world you want to. But--”

“Kai.”

“Yes?”

Luhan’s hand came up to rest between his shoulder blades in a comforting fashion. Kai watched as Luhan gave a final, long look to the growing life tree, and then he said in a voice that carried all the authority in the world, “I’m ready to go home with you now. I just need you to show me the way.” He leaned over to catch Kai’s mouth in a searing kiss. “Can you take me home? To our home?”

Kai slid their fingers together until they were holding hands. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since the first moment I saw you. Come on, Luhan. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly want to say that this story, from the first day, has been a labor of love. And it wasn’t easy to get this thing completed. I spent a lot of my nights working and reworking the plot, and almost all of my breaks taken at work were spent manipulating how I wanted the flow of the story to go, the character moments, and making sure that everything fit together soundly, like a complicated but satisfying puzzle. Sometimes, though, I just wanted to pull my hair out with this story, and even after I had written it, I worried about the reception it would have. This isn’t a story that’s light hearted or easy to skip chapters in.
> 
> But everyone, and I meant every single person who read and commented on this story, made it feel like it was completely justified that I wrote and rewrote this monster. It has always been my philosophy that I write for fun. I write for myself, because I have ideas and stories in my mind that I want to get out to enjoy over and over. I don’t write for accolades or any sort of recognition. If one person reads and likes my writing, it’s more than enough. But the response from readers chapter after chapter has really meant a lot to me. To start to recognize the same usernames constantly reading and dropping comments, is so satisfying and so fulfilling and I don’t think I can say enough how much it means to me. To get to chat with my readers about this story, and know what they thought of it, should be the greatest reward of any author. It is for me.
> 
> So again, thank you all. But more importantly, because this is the end, I want to know final thoughts! This is a monster of a story to get through, and to have made it all the way to the end is astonishing. To both the people who leave comments regularly, and those who have yet to, this is the time to leave one last word! What was your favorite part? Were all your questions answered? Do you feel satisfied with the ending? Tell me everything. Or simply let me know that you enjoyed this wild ride.
> 
> I can only say that the reception I’ve had for this story has far exceeded anything I could have ever hoped to have. And I continue to strive to be a better writer and share what comes out of my imagination, be it rubbish or otherwise. An author is nothing with an audience, so really, my most sincere and humble appreciation.


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